This Is Not What I Had Planned
by eukaryote
Summary: "You know what happened. You know. You cannot despise me more than I despise myself." Snippets from Albus Dumbledore's life. This will contain Grindelwald, Aberforth, Ariana, and even Harry. Contains Albus/Gellert as a pairing.
1. First Kiss

_A/N: Oh God, this is what boredom does to me. This is a collection of snapshots from Albus Dumbledore's life. The only warnings you need to know is it includes homosexuality (because he's gay) and it contains some bad language, especially thanks to Aberforth. _

_What really bothers me is, after Deathly Hallows, a very large portion of the HP fandom decided to hate Dumbledore. This bothers me because Albus Dumbledore is my favorite Harry Potter character, and maybe my favorite character of any fandom. Oh, there's no doubt Dumbledore messed up and did some very wrong things. However, I see him as a flawed, but innately good, human, and I think that's how JK Rowling intended him. I see him as very likeable, because he's a human who messed up and who, in his own words "despises" himself. He messed up and he knows it, and he was made a fool by love but he still believes in its goodness, and I find that very nice for some reason.  
><em>

_So, this is how I see Albus Dumbledore._

_You should know I try to stick to canon as closely as possible. I want these stories to be as believable as possible. Now, this first chapter is meant to be funny, and hopefully it is. _

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><p><em><strong>The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt. <strong>_

_**- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, p. 21 (US)**_

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><p>Sixteen-year-old Albus Dumbledore was walking down the halls late. It was two nights before the vast majority of the students were to board the Hogwarts Express and go home for Christmas, Albus included. He couldn't sleep, and to be honest, he did not really want to go home in a couple days, because home always felt like a guilt trip. He loved his brother, sister, and mother, but having to look at Ariana and her daily struggles always made him feel awful. It was his fault Ariana had a mental breakdown that she has still not recovered from. It was his fault Ariana would never walk through the halls of Hogwarts like himself. Albus was supposed to be watching her when those Muggles snatched her and did those horrible things to her, but he became distracted and forgot about her...<p>

It was an old wound, but Albus could still feel it when he was at home. He had tried to tell himself that he had only been ten years old at the time, not even old enough to go to Hogwarts, but the guilt inside him still squirmed every time he felt Ariana looking at him. Albus did not have the relationship Aberforth had with Ariana because he could not. A guilty conscious kept him from that. He knew that Ariana did not really blame him, but it felt like she did sometimes.

Albus stopped walking and squinted in the semi-darkness. He had heard footsteps.

Andrea Williams emerged from the darkness. She was in Gryffindor and in his year, but she was not a Prefect or a Head Girl, so she had no business wandering around the castle after hours.

"Hi Albus," she said softly. Despite the fact that it was now past midnight, she still had all her make-up on, and it was looking flawless.

Albus blinked at her. "What're you doing wandering around this time of night?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she said with a sheepish smile.

"Can't sleep, but I'm a Prefect and you aren't, so you really should go back to bed –"

Andrea rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Albus," she said with a tilted head. "It's Christmas."

Albus didn't know what Christmas had to do with breaking school rules, so he simply said, "Yes, but you really shouldn't be outside of the Gryffindor Common Room."

"Okay," she said, putting some of her dark brown hair behind her left ear. "Will you walk back with me?"

Albus blinked again. "Er, why?"

She grinned, her white teeth showing. Then she shrugged. "It's a little creepy around here late at night."

Albus could not make neither heads nor tails of this scenario and he was surveying her with great suspicion. If she found Hogwarts "creepy" at night, why was she roaming the halls by herself? He wanted to ask her this, but instead, he heard himself say, "Well… all right. Let's go, then."

Andrea walked close to him, way too close. Her right arm would brush against his, but when Albus moved further away from her, she moved in toward him. He was walking at risk of starting to run into the wall, so he eventually gave up.

"So," Andrea said, "what is it you do for fun? You spend a lot of time in empty classrooms; what is it you're doing?"

"Dragon blood," Albus muttered as Andrea's arm brushed against his again. "I am trying to find uses for the magical properties in dragon blood. Dragon blood is is extremely powerful, but surprisingly underutilized, so I am trying to discover new ways wizards and witches can benefit from it."

"Oh," said Andrea in what sounded like feigned interest. "That's interesting. How do wizards get dragon blood anyway?"

Albus could feel his brain clunking along very slowly. "I'm sorry?"

"They're really mean, dragons. How do you collect it?"

Albus tried to be kind; he tried to be understanding. He believed that it was important to be kind to everyone, and that there were all sorts of different people out there with their own unique sets of strengths and weaknesses, but the word _stupid_ went blazing its way through his mind unwittingly.

"You stun them," Albus said as patiently as possible. "Multiple witches and wizards stun them at one time."

"Right," said Andrea, sounding as if she did not really care. Albus briefly wondered if she had slipped and smacked her head against something and was suffering from a concussion. This conversation made no sense whatsoever and she seemed very out-of-it. But of course, he couldn't think of a polite way to ask her if she had hit her head, so he changed the subject.

"Are you excited to go home for the holidays?" he said finally.

"Oh, yes," she said happily. "No more school work…." Then it seemed like she remembered who she was talking to. "I – I mean," she faltered, "I like, er, learning, but sometimes all the work stresses me out, you know?"

Albus couldn't really agree, but he did not want to be impolite. He just grunted and then opted for silence.

They had reached the Fat Lady. Andrea took a deep breath and spun on her heel so that she was facing him. She was close to him, far too close, and Albus felt like he was going to fall backwards.

"You're really smart," she breathed as she drew closer to him still.

He felt like his brain had stopped working and time started to go by very slowly. He did not fancy Andrea – he had never thought to himself that she was attractive or pretty, but he felt a rush of excitement and anxiety spread through him. Maybe he could come to like Andrea – she was popular anyway, so she must have some good qualities, right? This was the moment that teenage boys everywhere waited for. Wasn't a first kiss considered a milestone or something?

But when Andrea pressed her lips against his, he felt… nothing. He was frozen. Andrea started to move her lips, but all he felt was a definite sense of anticlimax. Albus stepped backwards and scowled.

"Don't do that," he said with a frown. He felt like he had just been cheated out of something that should have been wonderful. It was nothing like he had expected. He felt absolutely nothing for this girl and it bothered him.

"What?" she said quizzically, looking puzzled.

Albus took in a breath and reminded himself to _be nice_. "I'm sorry, Andrea – truly. It's just… I don't have any feelings for you."

She stared at him.

"I mean," he faltered, "you're really – er – pretty and everything, but –"

"You are saying you aren't attracted to me?" she said coolly.

"I'm sorry."

A fire lit in her eyes. "You can't turn me down – no boy would ever turn me down! I'm the prettiest girl in this entire school! And you're _ordinary_-looking!"

Oh, so _this_ was her true nature. Albus' temper flared. "I just did turn you down," he said shortly. "Now go to bed before I report you. Have a Merry Christmas."

Fuming, Andrea shouted the password at the Fat Lady and stormed off to bed. Once the portrait closed, the Fat Lady began to laugh.

"Yes, very funny," Albus said angrily, yet he found himself smiling. The whole thing seemed funnier now that Albus was not facing Andrea's angry glare. "I am glad you are amused at my expense."

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><p>The next morning, as Albus sat with Elphias eating scrambled eggs, Elphias pointed out something Albus hadn't noticed.<p>

"So, er, Albus?" said Elphias a little too animatedly for the early hour. Elphias had already had three cups of coffee and Albus was sure his caffeine addiction was going to give him a heart attack one day.

Albus grumbled to let his friend know he was listening.

"Why is every single girl looking at you with a furious expression?" Elphias asked.

Albus looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor girls looking at him coldly down the left of the table. They quickly turned away in disgust and one even shook her head.

"No idea," Albus lied promptly. He felt someone sit to his right and he looked over to see Fallon Jones. Her long honey-colored hair was behind her in a ponytail and she was grinning from ear to ear.

"Fallon, why is every girl in our House mad at Albus?" Elphias inquired.

Fallon laughed. "Oh God, Albus. Albus, did Andrea really snog you last night?"

"_WHAT_?" Elphias exclaimed so loudly that several people jumped. Some of the coffee he was holding spilled onto his arm.

"Elphias," Fallon said impatiently, "put the coffee down…. Good. Albus, did she?"

"Assaulted, more like," Albus said with a slight smile.

"Why don't any girls assault me?" Elphias demanded. "I can't even get a girl to sit next to me in Charms."

"So she's going around telling everyone how cruel I am that I turned her down?" asked Albus.

"Yes, she is telling her sob story to any female that will listen," Fallon confirmed.

"And everyone is angry because I cannot _not_ kiss a girl back? Because I should have no choice in the manner?"

"Well," Fallon said, "sort of. She is exaggerating a bit, I think. She's telling everyone that you pulled away and called her ugly."

Albus' fork clattered to his plate. "I never said that!" he said, outraged.

"I know," Fallon said. "Don't worry, I don't think every girl believes it. I certainly don't."

"I can't believe you didn't kiss her back," said Elphias grumpily. "She's the most attractive girl in all of Hogwarts. After you, of course, Fallon," he added kindly.

"Nice save, Elphias," Fallon said.

"I've been told," said Albus wearily. "She threw a temper tantrum, she did. 'I'm the prettiest girl in the entire school.' Unbelievable."

Fallon snorted. "Don't worry, tomorrow we go home and everyone will have forgotten about it by the time we get back."

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><p>Yet the excitement of the ordeal was not over for Albus. Later that afternoon, Andrea cornered Albus again and demanded she wanted to speak to him in private as loudly as she possibly could in order to draw as much attention to the exchange as possible.<p>

"Of course," Albus agreed reluctantly, already feeling hot around the collar due to all of the eyes that were on him.

"Great," said Andrea.

As Albus unwittingly followed Andrea outside into the freezing cold, he was sure he saw Fallon give him a wink, while Elphias looked jealous. If Albus had been in a better mood, he might have found it funny.

Andrea quickly rounded on Albus and he found himself back up against the wall to one of the snow-capped greenhouses. He almost felt sorry for her, because she looked very tired and her eyes were red, as if she had been up crying all night. Then he remembered that she was spreading lies about him and that sympathy evaporated.

"Why do you not want to go out with me?" she demanded.

Albus said nothing, his face becoming more and more flushed.

"I need to know, Albus," she said shrilly. "Of course, I have a couple ideas, but I need to know the truth."

Albus stared at her shoes, which had almost disappeared into the snow completely. The silence stretched on uncomfortably. "What – what are your 'ideas'?"

Andrea took in a deep breath. "I have two theories," she said after a deliberate and very dramatic pause. "The first one is that you're very afraid of intimacy."

He was trying so hard to keep a straight face. In an attempt not to burst out laughing, he furrowed his brow and pressed his lips together in apparent contemplation. "Okay," he said after a moment when he felt in control enough to not laugh as soon as he opened his mouth. "What is the second one?"

She took another dramatic breath and said, "The second one is that you aren't even attracted to women at all… that you're… interested in men only."

That took Albus by complete surprise. His look of fake contemplation broke and he suddenly looked very interested. "Do you think –?"

"Please tell me it's one of those two," she begged. "But listen, if it's not, if there's something wrong with me, if I was too forward, if I was too ugly last night, if I messed up my eyeliner, if you had an upset stomach, if anything, just please give me the truth."

But Albus didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Take as long as you need," she said, "but don't sugarcoat it."

"Oh," Albus said, jarred from his thoughts. "Right... Intimacy. That's scary."

Andrea nodded in understanding. "Okay," she said. "I understand. You're homosexual. Everything makes sense now."

"What?" yelped Albus. "That's not –"

"Don't worry," she said with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "I'll just tell everyone you're scared of intimacy. Have a good Christmas."

Albus stared at her back as she walked away, open-mouthed and mortified. Eventually, he realized he was probably very close to developing the first stages of hypothermia, so he trekked his way through the snow back into the castle.

He walked around the castle numbly, speaking to no one.

_Oh shit. Am I?_

But Albus had never been attracted to another boy before. Yes, it was odd that he was sixteen years old and he had never looked at another girl with any kind of lust whatsoever, but he had never been attracted to another boy either. Albus had always ignored the hormones that were so prevalent in seemingly everybody else; he had found the adolescent interest in sex to be more of an annoyance than anything else. His peers were constantly so concerned with who was attracted to who, and the other sixth years were always finding secluded places all over the school to do all kinds of lewd things to one another, but Albus had always found the topic so boring. Was there something wrong with him?

Elphias said he wished Andrea had kissed him; he would've grabbed Andrea and kissed her back, but Albus didn't. And Albus knew Fallon had already kissed some Hufflepuff boy named Oliver last school year; she was normal. When Andrea, "the prettiest girl in the entire school," had kissed Albus, he had pulled away. Not only had he pulled away, he didn't enjoy it. At all.

_Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit._

But he had never fantasized about a boy before either, he reminded himself a thousand times, nor did he want to let his imagination wander there. Mortified, Albus went to the Common Room and said nothing to anyone.

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><p>Later that same night, Albus got out of bed, went out into the Common Room with a book, and sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. He had fallen asleep early, but was now wide awake. It was almost four in the morning and everyone had long retired to bed. Albus decided he would read until he felt tired enough to go back to sleep. He had three and half hours before he would have to get up and pack his belongings.<p>

He read for nearly half an hour in peace before he heard someone shuffling from the girls' dormitory. His heart immediately hammered and his mind went wild. Maybe it would be Andrea. Maybe Albus could try his hardest to be a hormone-crazed heterosexual male and push her against the wall and snog her senseless, just to prove to himself that he was "normal." But it wasn't Andrea.

It was Fallon.

"Albus," she said quietly in surprise. "What're you doing up at this hour?"

"Can't sleep," he said quietly.

Fallon yawned and walked over to him. Her hair was a mess and she looked much paler without any make-up on. She sat down beside him.

"I can't sleep either," she confessed. "But no loss. I really love four o'clock in the morning."

They sat comfortably for a while in silence as Fallon watched the flames and Albus pretended to be reading his book.

"So," she said finally, "what did Andrea say yesterday?"

Albus was silent for a moment. He decided he felt comfortable enough to tell Fallon, so he did.

"- and then," he finished irritably, "she says, 'don't worry; I'll just tell everyone you're scared of intimacy,' and she walks away!"

Fallon scoffed. She did not have a taken-aback look on her face. Albus watched her carefully for signs of disgust or surprise, but he found none.

"Andrea is a moron," Fallon was telling him. "Seriously, Albus, just forget about it. Everyone will forget about it over break. She'll find another boy, though of course, not one as nice as you," she finished kindly.

"But," Albus said worriedly, "I don't want her telling everyone in the school that I'm 'scared of intimacy.' And what if there _is_ something wrong with me?"

She smiled, a little too knowingly, her brown eyes warm. "What if you actually are afraid of intimacy? Or if you actually are homosexual? Who cares, Albus? If you are, we can cry about men together." She closed her eyes and shifted her weight a bit. Even though this conversation was a very serious one to Albus, Fallon seemed completely relaxed, and a smile was spreading across her face.

"My older sisters and I," she went on tiredly, "always exchange outrageous dirty planning book calendars every Christmas. Pictures of topless men holding kittens or something completely laughable like that, you know. It's a family tradition. If you are interested in men, we can add you to our circle of dirty planning book calendar gifting."

And despite the fact that Albus was genuinely worried, despite the fact that he would never be comfortable having this conversation with anyone else, he found himself choking in laughter as he tried to not wake up the rest of the slumbering Gryffindors.

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><p>Since Albus was able to laugh away his troubles, he was finally able to go back to sleep. He slept for another two hours and woke up in a good mood. This good mood was unfortunately squashed when he ran into Aberforth as he headed down to breakfast.<p>

His little brother saw him and started laughing uncontrollably.

Albus scowled, Elphias was already holding a cup of coffee, and Fallon just smiled faintly.

"_Sc-scared of intimacy_," the thirteen-year-old managed. He laughed until he fell into a coughing fit.

Albus pushed past him, annoyed yet thankful that Andrea was telling everyone this "explanation" instead of the other. If Aberforth ever believed Albus was homosexual, he'd never hear the end of it. This thought made his stomach fill with anxiety again, but he tried to focus on the humor he had found in it at four in the morning.

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><p><em>AN: Reviews are my motivation, guys. Even if you want to argue with me about Dumbledore as a character, that's cool too. I wanna know what you think!_


	2. Harry

_A/N: Hi guys, so I normally write a lot of dialogue and less descriptions, but I thought it was absolutely necessary for this chapter. Dumbledore doesn't really talk to anyone about Harry, I don't think - so we can only look into his thoughts. Hopefully it's not too boring. Dumbledore's relationship with Harry is what is controversial about him - he was only using Harry and he deserved a good bashing for it, etc. I thought this chapter was necessary to ground it._

_The vast majority of this is taken directly from canon. I'm going to leave a long list of all the canon I use at the end. I'm listing every piece of canon this came from because I know there might be some readers that are not Dumbledore fans._

_**Amy **__- Yes, I know, I hate all the Dumbledore bashing! It is so sad - I don't think JK Rowling meant to have so many people view him as a horrible person, because Harry ended up naming his second son after him. And yes, Andrea is a stupid bitch! She's a self-absorbed person. I don't exactly think she's a really bad person or anything - she's just self-absorbed, but on the inside very insecure. I'm glad you like Fallon - I like her too._

_**Red Furry Demon**__ - I'm glad you found the last chapter funny! That was how I intended it to be. Fallon is a character I completely made up. I think Albus needed a girl as a friend, so I gave him one! False lies, yeah, will you believe me that I read through that chapter 5 times before I submitted it? So frustrating - there's probably going to be a few things wrong with this chapter too. And yeah, I'm going to use slang only sparingly - I wish I knew how they talked in the 1890s, but I don't. I can barely manage today's British slang!_

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><p><strong>"I don't want to say too much, but Dumbledore is a very wise man who knows that Harry is going to have to learn a few hard lessons to prepare him for what may be coming in his life. He allows Harry to get into what he wouldn't allow another pupil to do and he also unwillingly permits Harry to confront things he'd rather protect him from."<strong>

**- JK Rowling, 2003**

**"Although [Dumbledore] seems to be so benign for six books, he's quite a Machiavellian figure, really. He's been pulling a lot of strings. Harry has been his puppet."**

**- JK Rowling, 2007**

**"I devote an entire chapter to the whole Potter-Dumbledore relationship. It's been called unhealthy, even sinister. ... [T]here is no question that Dumbledore took an unnatural interest in Potter from the word go." **

**-Rita Skeeter, Deathly Hallows  
><strong>

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><p>Amy Beam, an Unspeakable for the Ministry of Magic, had just finished listening and watching to Albus Dumbledore's memory in the Department of Mysteries' own Pensieve. Her hazel eyes were wide and her face was full of astonishment. Albus remembered her as a student at Hogwarts; she had graduated fifteen years ago – or was it closer to twenty now?<p>

"My God," she muttered faintly. "My God."

"You do agree that it is a real prophecy then, Amy?" asked Albus with a grim expression.

"Absolutely!" she said at once. "Yes, definitely. This is… this is some prophecy, Professor Dumbledore."

"Amy, you are no longer a student. Please call me Albus."

Amy shook her wavy brown hair, looking a bit nervous of the prospect of calling Albus Dumbledore by his first name. A silence settled between them in which Amy stared thoughtfully at the Pensieve that was placed on the desk between them and Albus sat across from her patiently, waiting for her to speak. He was quite certain he understood what the prophecy meant, but Albus did not pretend to be an expert on prophecies. Amy was the expert here.

"This is a very… relevant… prophecy," Amy finally said.

"You believe this boy will be born at the end of this coming July?"

"Oh, definitely. Whoever he is, he will present himself to you soon, Prof – er – Albus. You will know who he is because he will cross paths with you, one way or another."

"Cross paths with me?" said Albus in surprise. "What makes you think this?"

"Sir," said Amy very seriously, "prophecies are not made to just anybody. You were meant to hear this prophecy. Not me, not another man, not anyone else. You, Albus Dumbledore. This Seer gave you this prophecy for a reason. It was destiny."

Why did Unspeakables always have to talk in riddles?

"But why me? What am I supposed to do?"

She took a deep breath before saying, very slowly and deliberately, "You are the leader in the war against You-Know-Who. You are the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and you are the headmaster of the school where all British young go to learn magic. It is therefore logical that you are meant to protect and guide this boy, whoever he is. Protect him, teach him, and train him up until he is ready to face You-Know-Who on his own. You will have a large impact on shaping his life. Your connection to this boy is fate."

Two thoughts went through Albus' head as he sat in silence. The first one was _I feel bad for this boy, whoever he is_. The second thought was _I'm getting too old for this_.

"You are responsible for guiding him to success," Amy whispered so quietly Albus could barely hear her. "You are meant to be a guiding force in his life, visibly… or invisibly."

This exchange took place over fifteen years ago.

The present day Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes and stared ahead blankly, thinking. He was sitting alone in the large kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was past midnight and Albus knew he was making a mistake by not trying to get some sleep. He hadn't been sleeping much anymore and he was exhausted, but he could not stop thinking – about Voldemort, about Fudge… about Harry.

Harry was too good of a person to deserve this life that had been handed to him.

Amy Beam had been right. Albus was supposed to be Harry's protector. Albus had taken this role very seriously, and he immediately opted for guiding Harry invisibly. He had done everything he could to protect Harry from the moment it became clear that the prophecy was about him, starting with the Fidelius charm. But it seemed like he had failed miserably.

He knew, right now, Harry Potter was angry and unhappy. He knew the Dursleys were hateful and cruel to him. He knew this from early on. At the age of four, Harry had come to Arabella Figg's house with a black eye. Petunia said he had fallen on the playground, but Arabella did not believe it, and neither did Albus. Harry told Arabella that it was from Dudley. Albus was faced with the difficult choice: should he forfeit the blood protection and remove Harry from Privet Drive or not? He had chosen not to, but to monitor the situation more closely. Had he made the wrong decision? Probably.

Safety had always been Albus' number one priority in regards to Harry. As long as Harry was not being physically abused, he was able to eat enough food, and his body temperature remained somewhere around thirty-seven degrees Celsius, Albus could live with Harry being unhappy for the time being. Harry's happiness came second, and maybe this was wrong of Albus. He tried to tell himself that Harry was all right, that he would rejoin the Wizarding world shortly, and that he was not being physically abused. _Ah_, said a small voice in his head, _but emotional abuse is still abuse_. Why, oh why couldn't the Dursleys be halfway decent?

Albus' first big test came when Harry was three years old. A Death Eater, Gibbon, who was known to be a Death Eater but had evaded capture for the past two years – had found where Harry Potter lived. A friend of Gibbon's had moved into Little Whinging, only a couple streets away from Harry, and had recognized the toddler one day to be none other than the famous Harry Potter. This said friend passed this information to Gibbon, and Gibbon made his move.

After Gibbon's interrogation, it was revealed he had waited outside of number four, Privet Drive. He kept watch until Harry and Dudley came outside. There was Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, playing with a stick in the grass (probably because he wasn't allowed to use Dudley's toys), and Gibbon shot _Avada Kedavra _at him. It was useless. The beam of light disappeared into oblivion. Harry was still on the Dursleys' property. Gibbon could not even set foot into the yard. It did not take long for Albus to realize that someone was attacking Harry Potter's shield – one of his silver instruments on his desk told Albus this.

It was chaos. Three Aurors and Albus himself caught Gibbon. One more for Azkaban.

Harry never even _saw_ them. _Avada Kedavra_ was shot at him and he never _saw_ or _heard_ a thing! That was how perfectly Lily's blood protected him – the blood that flowed through Petunia Dursley. The Aurors were floored by the invisible shield that protected Harry. They had never seen anything like it.

So, Albus learned from mistakes. No witch or wizard was ever going to be living in Little Whinging – not while Harry Potter lived there. Albus never ever, ever, wanted to remove Harry from his aunt – not while his enchantments had passed their first test beautifully.

So yes, it was safety first, happiness second. Albus had always figured that maybe Harry could be happy later in life, but he could never be happy later if he was already dead.

Yet as Albus sat there in the kitchen, he frowned. Maybe his priorities were so backwards that he could not see straight anymore. Albus did not trust his own judgment, but no one else knew as much about the situation as Albus knew. He would not remove Harry until he was sure Harry would be safe at Headquarters.

At the moment, Albus wanted Harry to be inside his aunt and uncle's house every second of every day, but how could he tell Harry that he could not go beyond the Dursley's property? Harry was vulnerable as soon as he stepped out of the property lines, but how could Albus practically put him under house arrest? Should he explain to Harry why it was so important for him to remain in that house? Albus did not want to scare him. He did not want Harry to know that he was so worried about him that he was having Order members following him every hour of every day. It had been so difficult for Albus to look into Harry's eyes the night Voldemort came back and he was quite certain it was equally difficult for Harry to look him in the eye as well. The fourteen-year-old had been tortured. He had had every Unforgivable Curse thrown at him. He watched Cedric Diggory die. Albus did not want Harry to know much.

Albus put his face in his hands in exhaustion. Harry deserved a better protector than him.

And the prophecy… Albus did not want to make Harry go through with it. He did not like to think about what he, Albus, will have to ask of Harry. Albus was quite certain now that Harry would survive the Killing Curse again; he was quite certain Voldemort had unknowingly tethered Harry's life to his own when he used Harry's blood, but Albus could not tell Harry this. Intent is everything. Intention changes magic. If Harry knew he will survive and he goes before Voldemort knowing that he really will not die, that would change Harry's intent. If Harry faced Voldemort intending to let him kill him… that might tip events in Harry's favor….

Harry had survived Voldemort's attack as a baby because Voldemort had intended to let Lily Potter live…. If Voldemort had stepped into Godric's Hollow planning on killing Lily all along – if he had not given Lily the chance to step aside and save herself – then the curse would not have rebounded and all three of the Potters would be long dead. Intent has dramatic magical consequences and Albus knew this better than anyone.

Albus knew Harry would be willing to die to stop Voldemort, willing to do anything. This made Albus feel, if possible, even worse.

So Albus sat there knowing that he was going to ask Harry to walk to his death one day, without telling him he will most likely live. Albus did not want Harry to know this yet until the last possible moment to save him as much fear as possible. Ignorance is much better. The fact that Harry was going to need to be hit by _Avadra Kedavra_ yet again was a card Albus kept close to himself. No one else knew this. The less Harry knew, the better.

"I do not want anyone here to tell Harry about what is happening with Lord Voldemort," Albus had said to the room full of Order members five days previously. "He is just turning fifteen. It would be irresponsible for any adult to give him more information than he needs to know."

Sirius Black began to protest.

"Sirius, you know Harry has been traumatized by what happened after he touched the Portkey," Albus said sharply. "You are the only other person in this room who has heard Harry's account firsthand. We do not need to traumatize him any further."

"But Harry is capable –"

"I know Harry is capable, but that does not mean we should ask him to shoulder adult responsibilities," said Albus. "Harry is more capable of carrying heavy burdens than I could have ever dreamed of, but I am counting on all of you to treat him like an adolescent, not an adult. You, Sirius, I am counting on the most, because I need you to be his primary parental figure."

Sirius closed his mouth and looked mollified.

"I know I can also count on you, Molly and Arthur," Albus said. "Even you, Remus."

Sirius worried Albus a great deal. He was afraid Sirius would let Harry know too much. Albus was not sure anyone else understood how damaged Sirius was. Sirius was a good person who had suffered every single day for thirteen years in Azkaban. He had been only twenty-one years old when he had been thrown over to the dementors and locked away. This had left a scar on him. People do not mature, grow, or gain wisdom while in Azkaban. Sirius was very much still a twenty-one-year-old, and he could not help but see Harry as a friend – a _peer_ – rather than on an adult-child relationship. This was not Sirius' fault, of course, but it was worrisome to Albus.

Right now, Albus was sure Harry was dreadfully unhappy, and it was Albus' doing. Yet Albus had made his decision: Harry would remain with his aunt and uncle until Grimmauld Place was perfectly protected, but Harry was allowed to roam outside. An Order member would have Harry under surveillance at all times, completely unbeknownst to him. Harry would not be told any inside information the Order knows.

_And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…. _Harry deserved better – so much better – than being used as a pawn by Albus Dumbledore. The flaw in Albus' plan was that he cared about Harry. He had come to love him, even though he had told himself to not. It is difficult to pull the strings of a puppet you love. Albus was playing chess – everyone was one of his pieces. Harry was a pawn that Albus kept looking over at, caring for. You can't care about a pawn too much if you're going to win the game. It is extremely difficult to send someone you love to their possible death.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. _

It was all for the greater good. Albus really did not consider himself all that different from Gellert Grindelwald. Grindelwald had truly believed he was doing evil for the greater good. Albus also believed he was doing evil for the greater good._ You are just like him_, Albus told himself in self-disgust. Two sides of the same coin.

* * *

><p>One of Albus' fears were realized on the second of August – his birthday, actually. His birthday present was Harry nearly having his soul sucked out his mouth by a couple of dementors. Harry had wandered far from his home and Mundungus Fletcher had left his post.<p>

Albus' mental abuse directed toward himself began. This was _exactly_ why he should have told Harry to not leave his aunt and uncle's property line. Had Harry lost his soul, it would have entirely been Albus' fault. The fact that Harry was even _able_ to produce a Patronus after what had happened to him less than two months ago was nothing short of a miracle.

"You _left_?" Molly Weasley shrieked at Mundungus. "You _left_ Harry Potter _alone_?"

"I – it was a very, very good business opportunity," Mundungus said, looking rightfully ashamed.

"That is not what is important," Albus said, trying to gather his thoughts as he looked at his watch. Harry was, indeed, now on his aunt and uncle's property again. Temporary relief washed over him before he realized that it was absolutely, one hundred percent imperative that Harry _stay_ there.

"Fudge will bring some kind of punishment for underage magic," Albus said. "Molly and Arthur, I need you to write quick word to Harry, telling him to not, under any circumstances, leave that house, right now. Someone please find Sirius and tell him to do the same."

There was a flurry of movement as Arthur grabbed a piece of parchment and frantically started writing.

"I am sure Fudge will attempt to expel Harry," Albus said.

There were cries of protest, but Albus raised his hand and said, "He legally cannot, but that does not mean he will not try. I have to go to the Ministry, please tell Harry to not leave his aunt and uncle's house, to not do anymore magic, and to not hand over his wand if a Ministry representative comes to destroy it – I have to go –"

"Go," said Molly hoarsely as she read what Arthur was scribbling to Harry.

Albus didn't need telling twice.

Cornelius Fudge was not happy to see Albus. Fudge's face had been shining in glee as he talked animatedly with Mafalda Hopkirk.

"Expelled!" said Fudge happily. "Such a shame that boy is absolutely insane; I think he really had talent too."

"Shame indeed," said Mrs. Hopkirk. She was not looking Albus' way; she was too busy fiddling with her papers. "But if he is a loose cannon, I suppose it is all for the better to have his wand destroyed. I'll put the order in for someone to go snap it in two. That rotten liar deserves it!"

"Agreed!"

Fudge spun around on his heel to see Albus Dumbledore five feet behind him. The drastic change in Fudge's expression was almost comical. The blood actually drained from Mafalda Hopkirk's face.

"Good evening, Cornelius, Mafalda," Albus said calmly. "Am I correct in hearing that a student of mine has been expelled?"

There was a very long pause.

"Yes, Dumbledore, that's right," spat Fudge.

"That is interesting, Cornelius, because the Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students. That power belongs to me. Furthermore, the Ministry does not have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been formally proven."

Fudge swayed a bit on his feet. "Underage magic, especially magic in front of a Muggle, is against the law."

"Oh yes, definitely, as it should be, unless the given witch or wizard performing the magic is in life or death peril," said Albus. "However, if a crime has indeed been committed this evening, I am completely in support of this student facing consequences for his actions. I trust you will want there to be some sort of investigation into the matter to see what has truly happened tonight?"

"Potter has already been warned for using underage magic," Fudge said angrily, his face steadily growing redder.

"Well, this is true, but Harry Potter has rights, Cornelius, just like you and I. He has the right to defend himself from harm, which is exactly what he did tonight. He has the right to a fair trial and he has the right to explain his actions before the Ministry comes pounding on his door to expel him from Hogwarts (which it cannot do) and destroy his wand. If you want Mr. Potter to be legally punished, then you are required to hold a trial. Is this what you want to do?"

A vein was pulsing around Fudge's jawline. He finally was able to say, "Yes, I do want him charged."

"Very well," said Albus calmly. "Please schedule a day and time, and please send him another letter updating him about his current status in regards to the Ministry and Hogwarts. I do not want him thinking he has been expelled, nor do I want him thinking his wand is about to be snapped in two."

Fudge looked at Hopkirk as if he was looking for her help. She just looked blankly back at him. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife.

"Very well!" Fudge snapped. "Please, Mafalda, could you –?"

"Definitely," she agreed faintly.

"Excellent," Albus said cheerfully. "Both of you have a good rest of your evening then. I shall see you soon again, I daresay."

_Protect him, teach him, and train him up until he is ready to face You-Know-Who on his own. You will have a large impact on shaping his life. Your connection to this boy is fate._

* * *

><p><em>Stuff I took from:<em>

1. _Arabella Figg and Harry_: Mrs. Figg was to keep an eye on little Harry, but not say anything, on Dumbledore's orders (Order of the Phoenix, chapter 2, pg. 22 (US)). Personally, I like to think the Dursleys were persuaded by magic to befriend Mrs. Figg and leave Harry with her (like how Dumbledore gave Tom Riddle's orphanage an enchanted blank piece of paper that convinced them everything was "perfectly in order" for Dumbledore to take Riddle to his school), but that's just me.

2._ No other wizards/witches being allowed to live in Little Whinging_: During Harry's trial, Madam Bones said something very interesting that was never (to my knowledge) explained by JK Rowling. Madam Bones said: "We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Harry Potter. That situation has always been closely monitored, given... given past events" (Order of the Phoenix, chapter 8, pg. 143 (US)). Now when I was a kid reading OotP in 2003, that line made alarm bells go off in my mind, but this has not been explained. To me, that says this was "closely monitored" because there was some kind of threat to Harry's safety - some kind of "past event." I decided to take this little piece of canon and made it into an uncaught Death Eater going after Harry, but that's my own fabrication.

3._ Intentions and magic_: Harry_ really did_ survive because Lily was given the _option_ to stand aside, but she refused. Voldemort had _intended_ to let her live, and this is what made the difference. This is actually kind of mind-blowing, to me anyway. This came up in a previous fanfic of mine about Snape - how Harry lived because Snape had asked Voldemort to spare Lily, and Voldemort decided to agree. I had to dig in order to find this evidence, but I found it:

_JK Rowling: But [Voldemort] did offer [to let Lily live], you're absolutely right. Don't you want to ask me why James' death didn't protect Lily and Harry? There's your answer, you've just answered your own question, because she could have lived and chose to die. James was going to be killed anyway._ (2005)

Secondly, Dumbledore told Harry that when Harry meant/intended to let Voldemort kill him, that "made all the difference" (Deathly Hallows, chapter 35, pg. 708 (US)). Now, this makes a big difference to me. Whether Dumbledore's right or not, he certainly thought that Harry meaning to let Voldemort kill him might make a difference that would tip things in Harry's favor. This is why I think he didn't tell Snape that Harry would live another Killing Curse, because he didn't want Harry to know, because knowing might have magical consequences. It's no secret Dumbledore is a real cold bastard in The Prince's Tale, but I really do think he didn't tell Snape so Snape couldn't tell Harry he would maybe/probably live. Dumbledore was willing to come across as a real cold bastard, because he was keeping his cards close - keeping secrets - just like Aberforth said he's always done (Deathly Hallows, chapter 28, pg. 562 (US)).

Lastly, Dumbledore knew immediately that Voldemort using Harry's blood would probably keep Harry alive. We know this because there was a "gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes" when Harry told Dumbledore that Voldemort used his blood (Goblet of Fire, chapter 36, pg. 696 (US)).

4. _Dumbledore's self-disgust_: Dumbledore really did hate himself and mistrust his judgment. In his own words, Dumbledore explained, "You cannot despise me more than I despise myself" (Deathly Hallows, chapter 35, pg. 715 (US)).


	3. Aberforth

_A/N: Oh crap guys, I think this is the most angsty thing I've ever written, which actually is unplanned of me, but here it is. As you can tell from the title of the chapter, this features Albus' relationship with Aberforth. Gellert makes, um, an appearance toward the end, but I'm saving him for later. There will be more Aberforth later, but for now, he is only interacting with Albus in this chapter. _

_One thing I noticed when reading other (many incredibly good) fanfics here is that some have "Aberforth" shortened into "Abe," while others say "Ab." I like Abe better, but according to the Deathly Hallows part 2 transcript, Neville refers to Aberforth as "Ab," so Ab it is here. _

_You have to remember, Aberforth is 3 years younger than Albus - he'd only be late 14-15 years old when their mother died. To loose one's mother so young; it had to be awful, and thus the angst. We don't see a lot of Aberforth in the books, but I've tried to write him as described. The stuff I took from to write his character is at the bottom.  
><em>

_One last thing: I did some research on homophobic language, and I found out that "queer" emerged in the late 19th century as a way to refer to gay people in a not-so-nice manner, so it at least fits the time-frame. Did they use the F bomb in England in the 1890s? I looked up the history of the word and it says it emerged in the late 1490s-early 1500s, so it definitely existed.  
><em>

**_HermyLuna2 - _**_Thanks so much! As fun as it is to go off on a tangent and write a completely AU story, I like to stick with canon, because JK Rowling's world is perfect just as it is! Plausible is a good thing; I like to show what we didn't see in the books that JK Rowling has already created. The slash is definitely going to be here... Gellert makes a brief appearance in this chapter at the end, but I'm saving him. I think the next chapter will be Gellert. If not the next chapter, he will definitely be second to next.  
><em>

**_Red Furry Demon -_**_ Thanks,__ I actually did go back and change the mistakes (editing the chapter was easier than I thought). I had a lot of mistakes in the previous chapter, like a lot, which is so frustrating because it's like they sneak their way in under an invisibility cloak and only show up the morning after I publish a new chapter. Don't be crying though, LOL. I have too noticed that a lot of Dark!Harry fics include Dumbledore bashing, so sad. I really do think the points I raised last chapter have been totally ignored/forgotten by so many fans and it makes me kinda mad. But I mean even Hermione stood up for Dumbledore in Deathly Hallows, and if the readers don't listen to Hermione, they sure as hell aren't going to listen to me... Honestly, Dumbledore is more of a tragic figure than anything else, IMO.  
><em>

_**Amy W. Key** - Thanks so much, yeah, it's definitely a hard position for Dumbledore to be in. He knew like the fate of the entire world was relying on destroying the Horcruxes and Voldemort being killed. I think it killed him to put Harry in that position where he thought he was walking to his death...  
><em>

_**Aletta-Feather** - Thank you, Dumbledore can definitely be seen as a God-like figure overseeing the full story, but he's also human like the rest of us. It's because he is so omniscient. I remember JK Rowling saying that Dumbledore knows "pretty much everything" about the Harry Potter universe. He knows everything about everybody, but nobody knows anything about his past! I also remember JK Rowling saying that Dumbledore is burdened with knowing, when he would rather not know. He does have to make some harsh decisions for the greater good, and I think he hates that about himself, yet he does it anyway. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Reality returned in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable brother. I did not want to hear the truths he shouted at me."<strong>_

**- Albus Dumbledore, _Deathly Hallows_, pg. 717 (US)**

* * *

><p>Sixteen-year-old Albus heard his bedroom door creak open, but he did not bother to look up to see who it was. He already knew who it would be. He continued to read over what he had just written as he sat crisscrossed upon his bed with parchment and books spread out all around him.<p>

"Al, why don't you stop being supreme scholar of the Wizarding world and come downstairs to actually spend Christmas with our mother and sister?"

Albus did not meet his brother's gaze. Aberforth's tone had been light, but Albus knew better.

"I shall, in a short while," Albus muttered.

"I don't understand why you spend all your time hiding up here," Aberforth said. "We haven't seen them since September first. I mean, don't you care about them?"

Albus looked up at him hesitantly over his glasses. "Of course I do. I just really wanted to finish this before now; I really wanted this to be published at the end of next month, but now it doesn't appear like that will happen."

Aberforth just continued to look at him as if he was waiting for more.

"So I'm trying to finish it," added Albus lamely.

"That's it?" said Aberforth. "We both know you would be hiding up here even if you had finished whatever it is you're writing. It's very hurtful to the rest of our family. So why?"

Albus brought his left hand to his forehead. He didn't know how to tell Aberforth the truth – the truth that Albus felt guilty every time he looked at Ariana. He knew he should put aside what he was doing and go downstairs, but it was very difficult for him to do, and he knew that he would hate every minute of it. He loved his mother and sister, but it was not easy to sit there in the living room as Ariana struggled with herself every minute of every day. It made Albus feel very hollow and miserable on the inside. It was like visiting the bedside of a dying person. It was not easy to do. It was far too tempting to hide inside his bedroom and simply deny he was doing so in order to avoid being in the same room as his sister.

But before Albus could say those three words – I feel guilty – Aberforth said, "I don't understand you."

With that, his younger brother swept from the room, leaving Albus feeling even worse. _Get up_, Albus thought to himself. _Get up and follow him_. He couldn't summon the will to stand.

* * *

><p>"Albus?"<p>

_Oh shit_.

The suddenly completely adult seventeen-year-old Albus looked up from the book he was reading to see his newly-turned fifteen-year-old brother looking at him. Aberforth was looking anxious and he did not appear angry at all, but Albus did not let his hopes up. The only time Aberforth talked to Albus was when he wanted to fight with him. Albus figured that he must want something. Whatever it was Aberforth wanted, it was something that Albus was probably not going to give.

"Yes?" Albus asked, stopping himself just in time before he said, "What do you want?"

"I – I was wondering if I could have a little bit of money so that I can go visit with my friends this weekend."

Albus sighed. "No, Aberforth, I'm sorry," he said. "We simply do not have any spare money right now."

Aberforth's demeanor changed instantly and Albus braced himself for shouting and profanity.

"I see," said Aberforth angrily. "So it's fine for you to spend all your bloody spare time fucking Gellert's brains out and running around with him, but I can't take so much as a Knut for a weekend with my friends?"

"There are so many things wrong with what you just said," said Albus, firing up immediately as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Firstly, you have no right to talk to me with such foul language; secondly, I don't spend any money when I am with Gellert; thirdly, he is nothing but my friend –"

"Oh please!" shouted Aberforth. "I know you two queers are together and, _oh my God,_ is it _disgusting_!"

"We are nothing but friends and it doesn't matter anyway! The only reason you and I and Ariana aren't half-starved is because Mrs. Bagshot keeps feeding us! I can't give you money for you to run around with your friends when we're relying on the charity of others to keep us decently fed! It would be irresponsible. You can see your friends on September first when you go back to school!"

"I'm not even going back to school!" snarled Aberforth.

"You _are_ going back to school, even if I have to tie you to the Hogwarts Express myself! Don't think I wouldn't!"

"I hate you!" Aberforth shot with as much menace as he could. "You are absolutely disgusting and I'm ashamed to have a queer as my brother. I fucking hate you!"

"Yes, I know – you tell me every day how much you hate me –"

"It's _your_ fault!" screamed Aberforth, his voice cracking with the strain. "Everything is your fault, you good-for-nothing q-_queer_!"

Albus felt something in him snap and he heard himself shout, "_Stop calling me that!_" He hated how childish his voice had sounded.

"It's _your fault_ our father is dead!" Aberforth continued to scream at the top of his lungs. "It's _your fault_ Ariana's damaged; it's _your fault_ our father died in Azkaban; it's _your fault_ our mother is dead! You were supposed to be watching Ariana! If you had just done that, or better yet, if you didn't exist at all, our family would be whole and happy! It's your fault, you fucking _queer_, and _I hate you_! _I HATE YOU_!"

Albus could not even retort. The venom with which Aberforth was shouting was frightening. He had never seen Aberforth this angry, ever, so Albus simply stared. Aberforth quickly turned around and stormed from the room, his whole body shaking and his face furious. Albus stood there in silence, looking at the doorway in which Aberforth had disappeared.

Albus had never had it verbalized. His feelings of guilt regarding his sister's condition had always been unvoiced. But now here was Aberforth, confirming and solidifying Albus' role in Ariana's mental instability. It was his fault. But of course it was his fault. He was supposed to watch her and he didn't. Had he just watched his sister like he was told, those Muggles would never have gotten their hands on her... and his father would not have had to go after them... and Ariana would never have killed their mother. He imagined a world where Albus Dumbledore didn't exist. His father, mother, brother, and sister would all be alive and well and happy...

_You've done enough, Albus_. Those were his father's lasts words to him when Albus had tried to go with him to hunt down the Muggles._ You've done enough_.

* * *

><p>Albus had slept for a solid thirteen hours straight. Working fourteen hours in a single shift the day previously had not agreed with him at all. He had hoped Gellert would be there right when he woke – in the kitchen, perhaps, arguing with Aberforth for sport like he always did, but he wasn't. Albus assumed he was asleep at Bathilda's. Gellert liked to stay up late sometimes.<p>

So Albus sat up in his bed and read, trying to find any inkling of a reference to the Hallows. It was tedious work; perhaps only one out of a thousand pages had a potential reference and most of these potential references were either wrong or dead-ends.

About an hour later, Aberforth came bouncing into his room, looking positively delighted.

"What is it?" Albus said warily.

Aberforth beamed. His dark auburn hair was a little unkempt. "Guess what your best friend was doing last night."

Albus continued to stare at the page in his book, but he was no longer reading. When it was clear that Albus was not going to prompt him, Aberforth continued anyway.

"Gellert apparently got _really_ drunk at the bar and he slept with Emily. Or, at least, he and Emily left the bar together after kissing for like fifteen minutes straight, but if you ask me, they _definitely_ slept together."

Albus blinked and gave his brother a sharp look. "What are you talking about? Emily who?"

Aberforth sighed exasperatedly. Albus couldn't remember a time when he had last seen Aberforth this happy.

"Emily, Albus, Emily the _girl in town who sleeps with anyone_," he said impatiently, as if he thought Albus should already know. "This is why I like bars and alcohol. Everyone shows their true nature there."

Albus frowned. "You shouldn't refer to any woman as 'a girl who sleeps with everyone.'"

"Whatever," Aberforth said roughly. "Point is, your friend is not interested in you. A little alcohol later - or a lot, rather - and bam, looks like he's normal. He likes women. Here I thought you two were up in this room fucking each other senseless every day, and really, he likes women! Haha! What do you have to say about that?"

"Nothing," said Albus promptly. "It's none of my business what he does in that, uh, function, and nor do I care."

"Liar," Aberforth said maliciously, his eyes glinting. "I know you and Gellert are planning on changing the world and all these delusions. I know you're smitten with him. Wake the fuck up. The man bloody doesn't want you. You can't send me off to school September first and leave Godric's Hollow. Your life is here. _He doesn't want you_."

Albus blinked again and tried to ignore the hurt and anger that was welling up inside of him. "Shut up, Aberforth. Please leave me alone. I'm trying to read."

Aberforth did as he was told, for once. He left Albus alone. Albus stared at the page he had been reading for a long time, and he tried to read, but he wasn't taking the words in. He would reach the end of the paragraph and not remember what it had been about.

Eventually, the hurt seized his insides too hard and he couldn't think. Albus threw the book across the room. It hit the wall and he dissolved into silent tears.

He had tried to deny it for so long.

* * *

><p>It was a Saturday morning and Albus did not have to go to work. Instead, he was lying on his left side in his bed, facing Gellert. Both of the young men were sweaty and still breathing hard and anyone over the age of nine could've told you exactly what they had just been doing. But just as Albus closed his eyes and came closer into Gellert's arms, his bedroom door burst open.<p>

Both Albus and Gellert froze.

"Albus, get up – it's Ariana – she's upset and I can't calm her down – please! Get up – get up –"

Albus had never heard his brother sound this scared before and, given the fact that he had chosen not to comment on the scene he had walked into, Albus knew this was serious.

"All right," Albus rasped, and as soon as he moved to get up, he heard Aberforth go running back down the hallway.

Albus got dressed as quickly as possible and grabbed his wand off the nightstand.

"Do you want me to help?" asked Gellert, sounding almost bored.

"No, stay," Albus said shortly before he went hurrying after Aberforth, speeding down the steps and into the kitchen.

Ariana was sitting on the kitchen floor, crying. Magic had already come exploding out of her. Everything that was easily breakable – the window, glasses, plates, even the milk jug – had been shattered and was now in pieces. Aberforth was holding her hand and was trying to get her to look at him, but she refused to open her eyes. She was moaning, "_Please don't let them hurt me_."

Albus raised his wand and did the only thing he thought he could do – that he didn't want to do – but did it anyway. He stunned her. The crying stopped and she fell gently onto her side, completely unconscious.

Neither brother spoke.

Albus had seen this before. He had seen one of Ariana's fits before, but the last time he had seen one was before Ariana had accidentally killed their mother. Their mother's body had been broken, just like the windows, the plates, the glasses…. It was different now. They had never seen Ariana as dangerous, but that had all changed.

Aberforth stirred. He picked up Ariana and held her unconscious form in his arms. Then he wordlessly picked their little sister up – Albus saw him struggle a bit to hold her weight – and placed her onto the sofa in the living room. Albus followed after him silently. Both watched her sleep for a long moment.

"She won't remember," Albus said finally. "When she wakes up, I don't think she'll remember any of this."

Aberforth nodded. Then Albus suddenly remembered what Aberforth had seen when he walked into Albus' room. Albus prepared himself for taunting, or yelling, or insulting, but he could not find the strength to walk away. Aberforth would say what he wanted to say sooner or later anyway, so it might as well be now.

"Listen, Albus…" Aberforth said quietly, not looking at him.

Albus waited for the name-calling and expletives to begin.

"I'm telling you this because you're my brother," Aberforth said finally. "I care about you. And I'm telling you that I don't trust Gellert. There's something… off about him. There's something not right about him. I think you're making a big mistake and I'm worried about what might happen to you. I don't like him."

Well, that's _not_ what Albus had been expecting. After a moment of being taken-aback, Albus then scoffed. "You only don't like him because he's a man. If he was a woman, you would be totally fine with it. You just hate that I'm homosexual."

"That's not true."

Albus laughed coldly. "Odd, I seem to remember you saying that you hated me because I'm a disgusting queer. You've told me dozens of times, in fact – screamed it."

Aberforth finally looked at him directly, his expression serious. "Listen, okay, I know – I know I've been quite mean to you about it, and I've called you all kinds of horrible names, and I'm sorry for that, Albus. _I'm sorry_. I don't hate you, and it's not right for me to do, but I'm just – I'm so _angry_."

The honesty in his brother's voice threw Albus off for a moment and he stared.

"I'm so angry that our parents are gone," Aberforth went on feverishly, "I'm so angry that our father died in prison over those Muggles; I'm angry that those Muggles made Ariana unstable; I'm angry that Ariana is still suffering because of them; I'm angry that you and I are only fifteen and eighteen –" he took in a deep breath. "I'm angry. And I'm hurt. And I channel all that anger toward you, because you're the only outlet I have."

Albus felt his jaw slacken, but he managed to not let his jaw drop completely. There were tears glittering in Aberforth's eyes. Albus hadn't seen him cry since before Albus went off to Hogwarts.

"I'm fifteen years old and I lost our mother. I forget that you've lost her too. What happens if I go off to Hogwarts and then I find out Ariana's accidentally killed you too? I don't hate you, Albus, I don't hate you at all; you're the only brother I have, and you're the only brother I'm going to ever have; I don't –" but Aberforth's voice cut off here, as if his throat had been closed against his will.

Albus bolted forward and put his arms around Aberforth. Aberforth put his arms around Albus as well, not as tall as his older brother, but still growing. He rested his head on Albus' shoulder and cried, his shoulders shaking.

"It's all right," Albus murmured. "It's all right."

Albus saw clearly for this first time how stupid he had been. He should have seen through Aberforth's verbal attacks and name-calling. He was fifteen years old and he was now an orphan. His attacks on Albus had not been because Albus was homosexual; he attacked him because he was the only one Aberforth had left besides a mentally damaged sister. Aberforth was young, and hurt, and angry. He certainly was not going to take his anger out on Ariana. No, Aberforth was channeling his anger through Albus. He should not have taken Aberforth's taunting, insulting, and fighting personally. He was a hurt kid lashing out at the only person he could because he was in pain. Even a dog in pain is going to bite if someone gets close to it.

"I'm sorry, Ab," said Albus quietly. "I'm sorry – no," he said when Aberforth made a sound of protest, "I've messed up too. I should've known everything you just told me, but I didn't. I haven't been insightful or mature. I should've realized how much you're hurting."

Aberforth pulled away and sniffled, his skin flushed, his eyes red and watery. "I –" he stammered, "I'm not enthused that you're… different, but I'm telling you this because I care about you. I don't trust Gellert and I think something bad is going to happen someday."

Albus knew better than to argue, even though he disagreed. "I hear what you're saying," he said, affectionately brushing a strand of hair off his brother's forehead, "and I thank you for telling me this. Really, I do. Everything you just told me is honest. I love you and I promise things are going to be different between you and me. I can't be our mother or father, but I can be your older brother, and I'm going to try to be the best one I can be."

Aberforth nodded, not looking at Albus.

"Let's allow Ariana to sleep a while longer," Albus said quietly. "She is peaceful for now. She will wake up on her own, when she is ready."

Aberforth nodded again. Then he awkwardly walked away and back into the kitchen. Albus looked into the direction his brother had disappeared for a moment before straightening up and going back upstairs to Gellert.

It was odd. Aberforth had taunted him about being homosexual since Gellert came along, yet Aberforth had never walked in on Albus and Gellert together doing anything. Aberforth had called Albus a disgusting queer since before Albus admitted to himself that he had feelings for Gellert. Yet now that Aberforth had seen solid proof that Albus was indeed romantically involved with Gellert... Aberforth had not taunted him at all. They had even had a mature discussion...

* * *

><p>Albus did not even put up a fight. He was only dimly aware that a handful of people were watching the whole scene.<p>

"It's all your fault, Albus, God damn you!" Aberforth shouted. He was standing before Albus, who was still sitting in his seat. Up until this point, Aberforth had remained quiet, but it seemed like the grief and righteous anger in Aberforth had reached its boiling point.

Albus felt himself stand up so that he was taller than Aberforth. He tried to say something, but all of his words died on his lips before he could say them.

"It's your fault Ariana's dead!" Aberforth went on, his fists balled and tears in his eyes.

"Now, Ab," Bathilda Bagshot had risen to her feet behind Albus,"come now, come take a walk with me, let's talk about this - this isn't the time or place."

"Why won't you say something?" Aberforth screamed at his brother, completely ignoring Bathilda.

But Albus didn't. He couldn't. He watched Aberforth raise his right fist and Albus closed his eyes. He felt his nose break and the blood flowed down his face, all over his lips and chin. He heard people cry out. Albus opened his eyes in time to see Aberforth storming away. Albus swayed where he stood for a moment and then walked away too, ignoring the people who were speaking to him - telling him to stay. Albus walked back home. He didn't even mend his nose. It was the last time Aberforth would say anything to him for forty-six years.

* * *

><p>Here's what we've heard about Aberforth:<p>

1. "Aberforth was never bookish and, unlike Albus, preferred to settle arguments by dueling rather than through reasoned discussion" (Elphias Doge, Deathly Hallows, pg. 18 (US)).

2. "'He were a head case, that Aberforth,' says Enid Smeek, whose family lived on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow at that time. 'Ran wild. 'Course, with his mum and dad gone you'd have felt sorry for him, only he kept chucking goat dung at my head. I don't think Albus was fussed about him, I never saw them together, anyway'" (Deathly Hallows, pg. 354 (US)).

3. "Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy" (Bathilda Bagshot, Deathly Hallows, pg. 358 (US)).

4. "I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother" (Albus Dumbledore, Deathly Hallows, pg. 716 (US)).

5. The quote found at the beginning.

And here's what we heard about Ariana's funeral:

6. "'Didn't Aberforth break Albus's nose halfway through the service? ... Bathilda described the whole thing to Mother while I was listening at the door. A coffin-side brawl! The way Bathilda told it, Aberforth shouted that it was all Albus's fault that Ariana was dead and then punched him in the face. According to Bathilda, Albus did not even defend himself, and that's odd enough in itself, Albus could have destroyed Aberforth in a duel with both hands tied behind his back.'" (Muriel, Deathly Hallows, pg. 153 (US)).


	4. Unplanned

_A/N:I know I haven't updated in a while. I'm going to start an internship for college soon and I want to get this finished!  
><em>

_Okay, you know what, I don't think anyone realized just how much Albus was trying to take care of his brother and sister after their mother was killed. He could have said, "Nope, sorry, Ab, but you're going to an orphanage/you're own your own and Ariana, you're going to St. Mungo's for the rest of your life." But he didn't do that. He tried! We know they had little money and Albus was stuck trying to put food on the table, so I like to think Albus was stuck into some horrible job close to home just to keep them fed. _

_This chapter is absolutely important I think, because I'm setting the stage for Gellert (next chapter). Here, Albus is vulnerable, which makes him an easy target for someone like Gellert Grindelwald… How difficult do you think it would be for an evil person like Gellert to prey upon a gullible, lonely, parentless, and infatuated teenage boy? Pretty damn easy, IMO. _

_The title of this fanfic emerges here and for good reason. This chapter is actually sort of personal to me and I think anyone who has left school and gone out into the world can relate a bit to Albus here. Can you imagine going from being such a promising genius ready to see the world to being a working poor teenager who has to take care of his insane sister? "Trapped and wasted" talent was how Dumbledore described his situation. Trapped and wasted talent indeed._

_**HermyLuna2**: Was it confusing? Ah, I thought about adding dates to the scenes so it was clearer, but I removed them. The scenes are in sequential order and they are meant to be snapshots. I'm sorry it was harder to follow. About Albus and Gellert – I know, that is one of the things that just kills me because JK Rowling kind of left us hanging. Some fans believe that Albus harbored feelings for Gellert, but it was never revealed, while other fans think they were having sex like bunnies. I know it is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but oh well. I've read what JK Rowling has said on the Albus/Gellert matter and I really, really do think she hints they were together, but not because Gellert actually returned feelings for Albus. I knew it was a bit of a risk to drop the bomb that they were together without explaining how it got to that point, but I decided to go ahead with it…. I'm trying to make the Albus and Gellert relationship completely believable, trust me. Next chapter I'm going to try to make it all work. _

_**Red Furry Demon** – Thank you! Yeah, I do always try to slip in a comic relief moment. If I can pull it off, I am going to make Gellert be really funny. That probably sounds weird because he was one of the most evil wizards in history, but I'm going to try to make it work. I was definitely trying to get the Aberforth and Albus relationship right, and I think it was a dysfunctional relationship. I do think they loved each other, but neither Albus nor Aberforth every truly got over what happened. Aberforth certainly spoke angrily about his brother in Deathly Hallows, so yeah, I don't their relationship was ever truly mended. _

* * *

><p><strong>"Have you ever done that, when you squint your eyes and your eyelashes make it look a little not right, and when just enough light comes from just the right side and you find <em>you're not who you're supposed to be?<em> This is not what you're supposed to see ... the situation's becoming dire, my tree house is on fire and for some reason I smell gas on my hands. This is not what I had planned. _This is not what I had planned._****"**

**- _Twenty One Pilots_, "Forest"**

**"By the end of his first year he would never again be known as the son of a Muggle-hater, but as nothing more or less than the most brilliant student ever seen at the school. ... Dumbledore's future career seemed likely to be meteoric, and the only question that remained was when he would become Minister of Magic." **

**- Elphias Doge, _Deathly Hallows_, pg. 17 (US)**

**"'Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with 'the most notable magical names of the day,' Aberforth sneered. '_He_ didn't want to be bothered with her. ... Bit of a comedown for Mr. Brilliant, there's no prizes for looking after your half-mad sister, stopping her blowing up the house every other day. But he did all right for a few weeks... till [Grindelwald] came."**

**- Aberforth Dumbledore, _Deathly Hallows_, pg. 567 (US)**

* * *

><p>September 1892<p>

It did not take long for everyone to realize that eleven-year-old Albus was very talented with a wand.

During his first ever Transfiguration lesson (this was the class Albus was looking forward to the most), the first years were given the simple task of trying to turn a match into a needle, which was, to say the least, quite unexciting. Albus watched his teacher, Professor Davis, a small woman with straight blonde hair, wave her wand and clearly say the incantation. Professor Davis held up what had been a match, but was now clearly silver. It glinted in the light.

"Now, this will not be easy for you all," said Professor Davis, "but that is completely normal. Keep trying. When any of you are successful, if anyone is successful by the end of the class today, please raise your hand…. Go on, give it as many tries as you can."

Albus heard his classmates muttering the incantation around him. Elphias, who was sitting to his left tried the spell, but there was no effect.

Albus raised his wand the way Professor Davis had and he said the incantation once. The match immediately turned into a shiny, silver needle. He smiled and raised his hand.

Elphias looked over at him in surprise and said, "Was that really just a match?"

Professor Davis was looking over at Albus in surprise. She came over to his side and stared at the needle.

"You managed to do this on your first attempt?" she said incredulously.

Albus nodded.

"It's Albus Dumbledore, isn't it?"

He nodded again. He became dimly aware that everyone in the room was looking at him and it made him feel anxious.

Professor Davis reached into her pocket and pulled out another match. She placed it before Albus.

"Try it again," she said. "I would like to see."

He waved his wand again and the match became a needle. He looked up at her expectantly, as if his eyes were asking, "Did I do it correctly?"

Professor Davis smiled widely. "Incredible," she said. "Incredible. I think that deserves twenty points for Gryffindor. Well done, Mr. Dumbledore. I have never seen in all my years a first attempt be successful."

Albus felt himself blushing and he did not know what to say, nor did he really know what to do with himself now. Elphias was getting frustrated trying and Albus found himself trying to teach him how to do it. Yet despite the fact that Elphias was doing everything he could correctly, it still was not working like it had with Albus. It did not make sense to him. If Elphias did everything correctly, identically the same as Albus had, why was it Elphias' match did not immediately turn into a needle? By the end of the period, the match was pointy at the end, but it was still more of a match than a needle.

Albus found himself successful in all his classes. If a teacher gave him an incantation, he did it successfully on the first try. All of his teachers and even his peers were in awe of him. He didn't really know what to make of it. He had always considered himself to be intelligent because he loved to read, but he had never thought that he would be a powerful wizard. He found himself successfully going through the Standard Book of Spells of all volumes in private. He did not want to show off, but he did want to master every spell in the textbooks, merely to see if he could.

* * *

><p>December 1892<p>

It was four days before the students were to board the Hogwarts train and go home for Christmas when first-year Albus ran into his headmaster, Professor Corwin. He had literally walked into him because Albus wasn't watching where he was going and he had turned a corner too quickly.

"I'm sorry, sir!" Albus said squeakily. "I – I wasn't minding where I was going –"

"Don't worry, my boy, don't worry!" Professor Corwin said kindly. "You are the famous Mr. Albus Dumbledore, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, but I am not sure about being famous."

Professor Corwin smiled. "Is it true you've already mastered every single spell in The Standard Book of Spells intended for our seventh years?"

"Well, some of them are still difficult, sir," said Albus meekly.

"Are you liking Hogwarts, even though you might as well graduate tomorrow?"

"I don't want to graduate early," said Albus at once. "I love Hogwarts. It is as if I want to be buried here."

At that, Professor Corwin laughed before waving Albus off and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

* * *

><p>June 1899<p>

His mother's death had been gruesome. Shell-shocked and grief-stricken, Albus was presented with a choice he never thought he would have to make. He could either take care of his family or he could let his younger brother go into an orphanage while Ariana would surely end up in St. Mungo's. He chose to be the head of the family at the age of seventeen.

He needed a job – fast. He found a dreadful Muggle position at a store. He was to move boxes and put products on "the floor" in the early morning, plus do whatever boring tasks were needed at the time. When he told Aberforth where he had gotten a job and what he would be doing, Aberforth had laughed.

"Bit of a comedown for a genius such as yourself, isn't it?" Aberforth had sneered. "Moving boxes. Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards in all of the United Kingdom, working in a Muggle job moving boxes. When are you going to find the time to write to Flamel and be the most dazzling, brilliant know-it-all of the century? You won't last a week."

But Albus had lasted. He lasted because he had to, but he still was not making enough money.

One day, he was five minutes late to his 7:00 AM shift due to Aberforth. They had started fighting with one another and Ariana became upset, so then both Albus and Aberforth had to calm her down. Once Ariana had stopped crying, Albus looked at the clock to see he was going to be late in three minutes. He dashed from the house looking like a complete madman.

"You're late," his boss, Mr. Trent, said coldly as soon as Albus was through the door.

"I'm sorry, sir," Albus said immediately, breathing so hard his ribs hurt. "I - I had to - take care of my sister -"

But Mr. Trent did not seem to care. "The last time someone was late, I fired them."

"No, please, sir, I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just -"

"Don't think I can't replace you," snapped Mr. Trent. "What do you think you are, special or something? I could give your position to someone else who wouldn't ever be late in about ten minutes. You are what is called cheap and unskilled labor, Dumbledore. You'd better learn that quick. And don't go blaming me for your poor life choices. Maybe you should've stayed in school and learned how to read and write, then you'd be less replaceable. If you're late again, I'll give your job to someone else, because there are thousands of unskilled yous out there looking for money."

Mr. Trent walked away leaving Albus rooted to his spot. Albus stood frozen in horror with his mouth hanging open, but try as hard as he could, he could not pick his jaw up off the floor.

Mark and Luke, two teenage coworkers of Albus, came through the backroom doors carrying boxes.

"You feeling all right, Albus?" asked Mark as he put down the boxes and wiped sweat off his forehead. Like Albus, Mark was also a teenager trying to make ends meet, though Albus didn't really know the details into his situation.

"I'm all right," Albus agreed faintly.

"Nah, you aren't," Mark said simply. "You look miserable."

Albus exhaled slowly and said more to himself than anyone, "This is not what I had planned. This is not what I had planned at all. This isn't the life I wanted for myself. I'm not who I'm supposed to be. This isn't who I am."

Both Mark and Luke burst out laughing, much to Albus' annoyance.

"Oh, Al," said Mark, his smile wide, "now you're truly one of us. Cheer up though, you'll be dead someday, and then you won't have to work here."

Albus did not reply. He simply went into the back room and set about opening boxes with a box cutter, tears in his eyes. He felt so hurt and tired. _I am a failure_, he thought as the tears threatened to spill. He thought about his Hogwarts professors and his headmaster. They had all had such high hopes for him.

"You will be successful no matter what you do career-wise after Hogwarts, Albus," Professor Davis had said to him fondly once in his sixth year. "I cannot wait to see what you make of yourself. I know I will hear about you."

Albus felt tears fall as he tried to cry in the most discreet way possible. What would his former Transfiguration professor say if she knew where he was now? The powerful, talented, and once so promising Albus Dumbledore was moving boxes in a store. He tried to tell himself that the Muggle position was only temporary, but Albus knew better. He had wanted to become a Hogwarts teacher. He could never be a Hogwarts professor because he had to take care of Ariana. He could not leave her alone for extended periods of time. He doubted he could even work in the Ministry. He could not, in good conscience, ever hand the responsibility of Ariana over to Aberforth, because Aberforth was not even mediocre in his magical skills. Aberforth could not handle her turbulent power on his own.

Albus briefly imagined someone who knew him from Hogwarts coming into the store in which Albus worked. _'Oh, hello Albus!_' they would say. '_What on earth are you doing here? What do you mean you work here?_'

The brilliant Albus Dumbledore, inventor of the twelve uses of dragon blood, stocking random junk on shelves for a living with no end in sight. He could practically see Professor Davis' face falling with disappointment.

* * *

><p>June 1899<p>

Bathilda Bagshot was both a blessing and a curse. Albus had gotten home from work late, exhausted. It was a mixed blessing when the doorbell rang and Albus opened it to find her standing there with food – real food. Albus and Aberforth had decided to put shredded cheese in between two pieces of bread and call it "supper." The lasagna Mrs. Bagshot was holding looked much better.

Aberforth hastily grabbed Ariana's hand and led her to her room just as Mrs. Bagshot was coming through the door.

"Mrs. Bagshot, truly, you do not have to do this for us," Albus heard himself saying, as he took the large container of food from her hands.

"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Mrs. Bagshot. "I am only feeding myself and my nephew; it only makes sense to give some leftovers to you! Actually, Albus, I wanted to tell you that I would love it for you to meet my nephew sometime tomorrow or the next day you have off work," Mrs. Bagshot babbled happily. "He is your age and he is very, very intelligent and talented like yourself; I think you two boys would get along beautifully."

"Oh," said Albus faintly, not caring about meeting his neighbor's nephew at all. "Of course. I would like that, Mrs. Bagshot," he lied.

"Lovely!" Mrs. Bagshot said happily. "Next time – perhaps tomorrow."

"Yes," Albus heard himself say. His eyes were burning and he felt, to his horror, tears in his eyes. He couldn't tell if he was actually crying or if his eyes were only watering from all the fatigued burning.

Mrs. Bagshot tilted her head. "Are you all right, Albus?"

Albus swayed a bit. He tried to say, "I'm fine," but when he opened his mouth, he only made a little noise and then tears started streaming down his face.

"Oh, Albus," Mrs. Bagshot said sympathetically. She put her right hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. You're simply exhausted. Everything is going to be okay. You are a good elder brother to Aberforth and Ariana, and I know you are trying the best you can. It will be all right, in time."

Albus nodded numbly, his head hanging a bit, eyes cast downward. He felt so awkward, standing there in his living room, holding warm lasagna and crying for no specific reason whatsoever in front of his eccentric neighbor. He wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep so badly.

They stood this way for a long moment before Mrs. Bagshot finally said, "Well, go ahead and eat, Albus. Then get some sleep. Sleep in as long as you need, yes?"

Albus nodded again. "How can I ever thank –"

"You do not need to," Mrs. Bagshot said firmly. "Merely stop by tomorrow to meet Gellert, all right? Good."

Albus cried himself to sleep that night, as he did often nowadays. He knew he was too immature for all the responsibilities placed upon his shoulders and he was completely alone. He was so alone it hurt. The voices inside of him taunted him, telling him that he was going to be lonely for the rest of his life. He was going to be stuck taking care of Ariana until either she killed him or she died. He loved his sister, but he was such a poor caregiver - it did not fit him right. He hated himself for being so selfish, for wishing he did not have to care for her. His parents would be so ashamed of how poor of a job Albus was doing taking care of his siblings. He knew he was being so selfish, but he couldn't help but know that all that potential that he had once possessed had disappeared overnight.

_It's your fault,_ his demons screamed before he fell asleep. _It's all your fault in the first place. You did this to Ariana. You did this to Aberforth. You did this to yourself. _

From the moment Albus and Gellert Grindelwald made eye contact for the first time, Albus really didn't stand a chance.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yay, Gellert is next._


	5. Gellert

_A/N: I see a lot of people adding this and my other fanfics to their favorites and even adding me as a favorite "author" and I'm actually kind of pleasantly surprised. You all aren't saying much, but you're out there reading, and I appreciate that. I like each review too!  
><em>

_This chapter focuses on funny Gellert, kind Gellert, but also manipulative Gellert. It goes in sequential order. Some of this chapter sort of even brinks on crackfic moments. The real dark stuff is later. I'm going to try not to turn this into an essay, but I feel like I've got to give my evidence as to why I think this is how it went. You can find this evidence at the bottom!_

_Please also note, I had to delete reviews per someone's request, so if you're scratching your head wondering where some of them went, that is what happened to them, and rest assured I haven't been deleting reviews randomly! I thank you all for the reviews!  
><em>

_I did, once again, take stuff from Twenty One Pilots._

_Lastly, Aberforth is bluffing in this chapter, but Albus never finds out if he's telling the truth about Evelyn or not.  
><em>

_**mangoarcher1802** - Hi there, you're right, Harry did think Gellert had a Fred and Georgish air to him. Honestly, IMO, I like to think of Gellert as looking like the ultimate package on the outside, but being so evil inside. I like to think of him as brilliant, good-looking, outgoing, spontaneous, and very funny... but on the inside... evil. That is what makes him scarier than Voldemort. Voldemort was always completely cold and uncaring socially - he operated alone, never had a friend. His psycho tendencies were easier to spot. But Gellert - he appears great, but he's evil, which makes him (to me) more sinister than Voldemort. _

_**Red Furry Demon** - Haha, yeah, young Dumbledore is a bit of a Gary Stu. I probably do idealize him too much, but I have to feel bad for the guy. Child/teenage Albus is kind of a walking contradiction. I see him as amazingly powerful and talented, but he's also horribly gullible and foolish. He has messed up, but I feel for the guy. He is the perfectly idealized imperfect person. Am I making sense? Yeah, maybe not. He's a complicated but innately good guy; however, that doesn't mean he hasn't done some very bad things. There's going to be a whole chapter about Dumbledore's darkness. Oh and about Bathilda - I picture her to be very nice, but also kind of off too. Like almost clueless, in a way. She's a bit more clueless here... or maybe she isn't clueless at all, but she's just pretending to be. There is one brief scene in this chapter you've already read in the other fanfic of mine, so I'm sorry for the repeat here!  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>"Dumbledore, who was the great defender of love, and who sincerely believed that love was the greatest, most powerful force in the universe, was himself made a fool by love. That, to me, was the interesting point. That, in his youth, he was – he became infatuated with a man who was almost his dark twin. He was as brilliant. He was morally bankrupt. And Dumbledore lost his moral compass. He wanted to believe that Grindelwald was what he wanted him to be, which I think is what particularly a young person's love tends to do. We fill in the blanks in the beloved's personality with the virtues we would like them to have. So Dumbledore was wrong about his judgment and was entirely – was very suspect in that time. And of course it was more than being infatuated. Grindelwald appeared to be offering him a solution to this horrible dilemma. Dumbledore was not cut out, to his shame, to be a carer. He was cut out to go out on the world stage and be a brilliant man. He knows this about himself and he's ashamed of it."<strong>

**-_ JK Rowling, 2007_**

* * *

><p>The first thing Albus learned about Gellert Grindelwald was that he was completely... unorthodox? Unconventional? Unpredictable? Albus didn't really know the right word, but Gellert was nothing like he had ever seen before.<p>

It was very early in the morning - only ten minutes past six. Aberforth and Ariana were still asleep. Albus was on the way to visit his mother's grave because it was the only time of the day he could do so without Aberforth knowing. He had barely stepped outside of his garden when Bathilda pounced on him and talked a mile a minute, telling him that he had to wait right there, that she was going to go find Gellert, that Gellert was brilliant and his age, that Gellert had attended Durmstang but spoke English fluently, and before Albus could get a word in, Bathilda had dashed back into her house. Albus stood there awkwardly in the morning sunlight. He wasn't expecting much when it came to Gellert. He closed his eyes and wished he was still in bed.

The door swung open again and Albus found a blond young man walking toward him. Albus found himself frozen for some reason.

Bathilda quickly opened her mouth and began to speak, but Gellert cut over her.

"You're the Albus Dumbledore that writes for _Transfiguration Today_?" said Bathilda's nephew. It was more of a statement than a question.

Albus felt like his brain wasn't working properly. First, Bathilda had just told him Gellert had attended Durmstang, yet Gellert spoke as if he was born and raised in England. Secondly, Albus was prepared for the conventional introductions and polite small talk, not such a to-the-point conversation. Thirdly, Gellert seemed so sure of himself and intelligent that Albus found himself feeling like a complete idiot in comparison.

"I am," Albus finally managed.

Gellert scowled. "Well, what the hell are you doing here then?"

"I..." said Albus, feeling stumped.

"Well," said Bathilda, sounding a bit annoyed that she hadn't been able to give the introductions, "you boys don't need me. Good day."

Albus watched her walk back into the house. He had wanted to say something, but he didn't know what, and by the time he had decided to tell her 'thanks, you too,' she had already closed the door. He looked over at Gellert. Gellert was watching him and Albus felt his face heating up.

"I live here," Albus said finally.

Gellert grinned. "Correct, I know you do. I'm asking you why. You should be seeing the world, working with today's most brilliant minds, not living next door to Bathilda Bagshot in a small town."

"Oh... well, I have to take care of my younger brother and sister, because our parents are dead."

Gellert's eyebrows came closer together. "So you're obligated?"

"Yes," Albus said, "that's the perfect word exactly."

* * *

><p>"If we found the Stone," Gellert said in that perfect British accent, "we could bring your parents back. We could bring anyone back."<p>

They were sitting outside in the graveyard, right at Kendra Dumbledore's tombstone. Albus searched Gellert's medium-blue eyes for any inkling of doubt. He could not find one. It appeared Gellert really did believe the Resurrection Stone existed and that they had any chance of finding it.

"I would love that," Albus finally admitted. "I - I miss my mother. I know Ariana misses her terribly. She doesn't truly understand that she's gone. She cries for her at night sometimes." Albus closed his eyes. "My mother was such a better caretaker for her. She worked so hard to keep Ariana happy and healthy. She did not deserve to die the way she did."

Albus reopened his eyes to see Gellert nodding with sympathy.

"My father though," continued Albus, "is the trickier one. Do not misunderstand me. I love my father and I missed him very dearly after he was locked away in Azkaban. I merely... I do not know if he would approve of me. I do not know if he would forgive me for my role in Ariana's illness and for my poor job at caring for her and Aberforth. He might be ashamed of me. He might strongly dislike me."

"I think he would forgive you," Gellert said, "and he certainly would not be ashamed of you. You were only ten when it happened and you're his first born. He'd forgive you." Then Gellert frowned slightly. "Unfortunately though, the Stone is more difficult to find. It is much easier to find the Elder Wand, with all the killing and backstabbing it leads to. However, I think we can find the Stone. I think we can find them all, Albus. It is possible and you and I would make an incredible team. Then we can bring them back for you, your brother, and your sister."

Gellert smiled and Albus felt himself smiling back, hardly daring to believe.

* * *

><p>"Who the hell are you?"<p>

Gellert was sitting on the sofa. He looked over at the teenager who had just walked into the living room. The boy looking at him looked like he was fourteen or fifteen and he looked a lot like Albus. This must be Aberforth.

Slowly, Gellert raised his hands and said, "Listen, kid, I don't want to hurt you or anything, but I need you to empty out your pockets and give me all of your money."

Aberforth looked scared. "No, please, sir, I don't have any money, I'm only fifteen - don't -"

Gellert laughed. "I'm only fucking with you, kid," he said, grinning. "I'm your brother's friend; I'm just waiting for him to change."

Aberforth's mouth fell open a bit and Gellert could easily see he had not been given his brother's brains. Then Aberforth closed his mouth and swept from the room, looking rather red in the face.

* * *

><p>Albus was crying silently. It was very early. The sun had finally risen properly, but an early morning chill was still in the air. He was sitting before his mother's grave as the sun warmed his back from behind. Albus knew that all graves faced the east. The idea was that someday, all of the souls would be taken up to heaven with the rising sun, or something like that. Albus was not particularly religious. He didn't know if he believed in the afterlife or not.<p>

Albus then heard someone walking behind him. He turned his head to see Gellert. Gellert sat down beside him and put his arms around him.

"Gellert, what -?"

"Shut up," said Gellert.

And Albus did so. He leaned his head against Gellert's shoulder and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>Albus was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that four teenagers living (well, Gellert didn't technically live here, but he might as well) in the same house without an older adult was not a good idea. There was a lot of fighting and a lot of cursing. Normally, Albus could take Aberforth calling him a disgusting queer, but he was definitely not okay with it if Gellert was around.<p>

Aberforth was shouting at Albus. This time, they were arguing about Ariana.

"And you don't even give a shit about her," Aberforth snarled, "because you're too busy being a queer with your 'best friend' to even notice her!"

"Shut up," Albus said in a hushed and desperate tone. "He's upstairs, stop, Ab, we'll talk about it later -"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF GRINDELWALD HEARS ME CALLING YOU A QUEER!" Aberforth exploded as Albus cringed. "YOU _ARE_ A FUCKING QUEER!"

"Please, Ab, stop -"

"Oh, Aberforth," said a man's voice behind Albus.

Albus turned in horror to see Gellert standing at the foot of the stairs. Gellert was shaking his head with an utmost serious expression on his face.

"What the hell do you want?" Aberforth sneered at him.

"I want to help you," said Gellert seriously. "Listen, Ab, I think you really need to discuss your feelings with someone. You can't keep bottling things up forever and taking it out on Albus."

Both Albus and Aberforth stared at him, completely confused. Both brothers had an identical look on their faces and they looked more alike than ever. It appeared like Gellert was truly concerned about Aberforth's mental state.

"I know that you've been having a hard time controlling your emotions, Ab," Gellert continued gravely, "but it is to be expected. I know it is hard for you to accept this turn of events. But listen: I want to help you. However, I can only help you if you are honest to yourself about your feelings."

Aberforth continued to gape.

Gellert sighed heavily before continuing, "You need to come to terms with your sexuality, Ab."

"I'm not a fucking homosexual!" Aberforth shouted.

Gellert looked agitated. "Yes, Ab, I know that. Even Albus here knows that. You are attracted only to your goats. I know it must be hard admitting it, but we all know it's the truth."

Albus realized his mouth had been slightly open. He closed it now and stared at the stairway railing as he tried not to laugh.

"I'm not attracted to my damn goats!" Aberforth exclaimed, his face turning red.

Gellert sighed again. "Yes, you are, and listen... you need to act on your feelings. But before you do, you need to ask yourself some important questions... such as... how long have you known the goat?"

Albus was finding it increasingly difficult to keep a straight face.

"Has there," continued Gellert, "has there always been like a... like a _tension_ between you and the goat?"

Albus couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing and he laughed until his sides hurt.

"Fuck you!" Aberforth screamed. "I like women! You both are insane, disgusting -"

"We need to work through your denial, child," Gellert said. "I'll believe that you like female goats, but human females, impossible."

"I LIKE HUMAN GIRLS!"

But Gellert only shook his head sadly.

Aberforth stormed from the room, looking angrier than Albus had ever seen him. Albus laughed until it hurt too much to keep doing so. Then he remembered Gellert had heard Aberforth calling him a queer and he felt uncomfortable, maybe even a little scared. What if Gellert believed Albus _was_ a queer?

"You really do need to stop taking your dear brother so seriously," Gellert said, looking completely relaxed and indifferent. "He's actually quite easy to get rid of. Just flip the tables on him and accuse him of something such as being sexually attracted to his goats." Then Gellert frowned to himself. "Well, at least I hope he isn't actually attracted to goats, but no matter. You've got to beat him at his own game. I don't know why you never retaliate."

"You only made him even more angry, though," said Albus.

"Yeah, but look who is left here in the room. You and me." Gellert spread his arms, palms up. "Aberforth ran off and we're still here."

He had a point, but Albus was becoming increasingly uncomfortable still at the thought of Gellert thinking he was homosexual, even though it seemed Gellert did not care one way or the other. Gellert was looking at him though, waiting for him to say something. Albus thought about trying to change the subject, but what could he say? Or would it be better to try to convince Gellert that he was not a queer? That might seem too forced and desperate. He couldn't stand the thought of Gellert thinking he was homosexual when he actually was not.

"It's nice out," Albus heard himself eventually say. "Outside, I mean. The weather." Albus was very aware that Gellert was simply continuing to stare. "It's sunny," finished Albus lamely. He was mortified and he knew he was blushing. He thought by speaking, he would make things better, but he had only made things a thousand times more awkward.

"I don't know," said Gellert easily. "It seems kind of hot to me."

Albus became, if possible, even redder. Even though Gellert had said it in an innocent and casual tone, Albus could not help but wonder if Gellert was making some kind of... suggestion.

"Wait, look," said Gellert. "It appears he is back for more."

Albus turned to see Aberforth storming back into the kitchen.

"Just so you know," Aberforth shouted at Gellert, "I do like human girls. You can even go ask Evelyn Ericson. I slept with her the last week of school this past June."

"You did WHAT?" shrieked Albus, but Aberforth was already out of the room.

Gellert only laughed loudly.

"It's not funny!" shouted Albus. "Gellert, it's not funny at all! What if he's being serious?"

Gellert rolled his eyes. "Who cares? He's probably not, but I really am not interested in what he does."

"He can't be sleeping with people when he's fifteen - no, he would've been only fourteen at the time - he can't bloody do that! I'm not cut out for this," Albus lamented, wringing his hands, looking quite distressed. "I can't do this at all. I mean, I always knew Ab was a little wayward, a bit hard to control, gets into occasional mischief, has a dirty mouth, but never, never - oh God."

Gellert frowned at him. "Albus, you need to calm down. It doesn't matter."

"You do - you do know that - that that leads to babies, right? What am I going to do if bloody Evelyn Ericson winds up on my doorstep one day with a baby?"

"Aberforth is a big boy," Gellert waved dismissively at him. "He'll have to take care of it, then."

"But he's fifteen! It's going to fall onto me!"

"You didn't hold Aberforth's hand when he was making the baby that probably doesn't exist, did you?" Gellert said coldly. "You don't have to hold his hand while he's taking care of it either. He'll have to do it. But honestly, I think he's lying. Honestly, there's no way any girl is going to do that with him, unless she's very ugly, anyway, or blind... Is Evelyn Ericson very ugly or blind?"

But Albus could only put his face in his hands and groan.

* * *

><p>"When do you turn eighteen?"<p>

Albus looked up from his book and blinked at Gellert for a moment. _Random_. They both had been reading silently for half an hour. Both had been looking for references to the Deathly Hallows and both had been unsuccessful.

"August second," Albus replied.

Gellert looked thoughtful. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"I don't know," lied Albus finally, though he did not admit to himself that he was lying to himself. "When do you turn eighteen?"

"We have got a while before that happens," said Gellert. "December twenty-first."

"The winter solstice," Albus announced.

"Yeah," agreed Gellert. "Yeah. It was a dark day in history when I was born."

"Right," Albus said, his heart pumping a little harder than usual for some reason. "And... what do you want for _your_ birthday?"

Gellert looked at Albus with a slight frown. "I don't know," he echoed, sounding a bit annoyed. Then he inexplicably went back to reading and Albus eventually did the same.

* * *

><p>It was the iciest silence Albus had ever had with Gellert.<p>

Albus' expression was cold and hard. It made him nauseated to know that Gellert had spent the night with some random promiscuous girl. He was done trying to pretend he didn't have feelings for Gellert. He was positive he did. He was done with Gellert altogether. How could he go parading around the world with someone he had feelings for who didn't have any feelings back for him? It would be self-abuse of the highest order to do so. Albus had tried denying his feelings, but it wasn't working anymore, not now that he knew Gellert had been with some girl. He felt hurt, very hurt, and he didn't want to continue to feel hurt for the rest of his life. It would be so painful to always be around someone he had feelings for who felt nothing in return for him. Albus didn't know exactly when Gellert had crept into his heart, but he had. Albus _was_ homosexual - Aberforth had been right, but the way he saw it, no one would ever have to know... and Gellert could go sleeping with every random girl he fancied all across the globe for the rest of his life.

Gellert looked thoroughly confused. His head was pounding as he tried to decipher the emotion Albus was feeling, but he found it was impossible. Albus was as indifferent and as distant as ever. Whatever it was, Gellert was sure it had something to do with Aberforth. That stupid boy had said _something _to turn Albus away from him and all their plans.

"It's not that I don't want to help you find the Hallows," Albus was saying. His eyes were not fixed on Gellert's medium-blue eyes, but rather, the top of the blond's head. "It's just I'm trapped here, Gellert. I can't leave."

"But –" Gellert spluttered, "but – what has happened to you, Albus? We agreed that you would be able to take Ariana with us! She likes me! She would be fine! You were totally on board with this yesterday! What's changed?"

Albus shrugged coldly, looking bored.

They were standing outside of Albus' house, in the garden. Though still slightly suffering from a hang-over, Gellert looked far too good-looking with his smokey eyes and messy blond hair. Albus looked tired and he felt tired. He felt like he had aged ten years in one day.

"We all have to grow up someday, Gellert," Albus said finally. "Now it's my turn. My life is here with my family. I wish you the best of luck. Maybe you will be the first to unite the Deathly Hallows someday."

Albus turned on his heel and went back into the house. Silent sobs were making his shoulders shake, but he had not let Gellert see the tears, and he hid the tears from Aberforth as he hurried through the kitchen, through the living room, and upstairs to his room, where he cried some more. Then he fell asleep.

As Albus slept, Gellert walked through the town, wracking his brains. He did not understand. This was not the same Albus Dumbledore as he had been a day previously. What had changed? Had Aberforth finally gotten to him and convinced him that he could not take Ariana along? He must have.

_Damn that boy_, Gellert thought angrily. _Damn that stupid, little, goat-loving boy_.

_Shit_. His pawn was gone. Gellert knew he, by himself, was just as powerful as Albus, and that it would be difficult for anyone to stop him, but if he had his own powers plus Albus' on his side… they would be truly unstoppable. Albus was perfect – powerful, highly intelligent, skilled, young, and so easily manipulated. And yet now he wasn't cooperating. This was not a part of Gellert's plan. Of course, he had always planned that he would change the world by himself, but Albus had been like an unexpected dream come true. Albus Dumbledore was like an Elder Wand all himself – the fourth Deathly Hallow. Gellert couldn't let him get away without a fight. If he lost Albus, if he lost his fourth Deathly Hallow, then that Deathly Hallow might come back one day to stop him.

Though the sun had set, Gellert still had a faint headache that wouldn't let go. He was _really_ drunk last night. Had he said something to Albus last night that he didn't remember? He could not remember going over to Albus' house. He remembered that Albus had worked a very long shift, and that he said he wanted to just sleep, so Gellert had left and gone out drinking because he felt reckless. Had he returned to Albus' house? He didn't _think_ he had, but at the same time, there were periods of time he couldn't remember. He had blacked out.

Gellert almost ran into a pretty teenage girl.

"Sorry," he grumbled absentmindedly.

"Sorry," she said as well.

Gellert stopped dead in his tracks. A girl. There had been a girl. He had slept with a girl last night – a girl with red hair. Wait, oh shit, was that Albus? _No, it wasn't Albus_, he snapped at himself internally, too agitated to see the humor in his situation. _Albus might have long red hair, but damn, I'd know the difference. Think_, he thought. _Think_. His head pounded in protest as he stood there in silence in the middle of the sidewalk, chewing his lip, trying to remember.

Gellert and this girl had walked into a secluded field and had sex, and when Gellert woke that morning, she was already gone. He had been confused when he awoke in the middle of a golden field early that afternoon, but then he had laughed and took this to mean he had had a great night, even though he couldn't exactly remember it…. But never mind, this girl, this girl….

The girl had had a lot of friends at the bar. When Gellert had so brazenly/drunkenly gone up to her, her friends started giggling and eventually walked away… so there were plenty of witnesses that saw Gellert leave with her. What was that stupid girl's name?

Oh, but it didn't matter. A girl. He had slept with a girl.

And Albus…

It all clicked in his head. It all fit. Gellert had thought Aberforth was only name-calling for the fun of it!

Oh _this_… this made sense…. He could take advantage of this, exploit this. He almost laughed.

With a smile that was almost manic, Gellert turned around and went hurrying back to Albus' house. He had to play his part well, because the Greater Good now relied on it...

Albus was not exactly in a state of complacent sleep, but he was unconscious and his brain was dreaming in a racing fashion. In his dream, Fallon was wearing a wedding dress and Albus was trying to explain to her that he couldn't marry her because he wanted only Gellert. Then dream Aberforth appeared and Fallon asked him to marry her instead, and then Albus had to explain that Aberforth couldn't marry her either because Aberforth was only attracted to goats. He was spared from the rest of this awful dream when he heard a loud bang coming from downstairs. He jumped up and grabbed his wand. Had he really heard that?

There were shouts coming from downstairs. It was real. Afraid there was some intruder in the house, Albus hurried downstairs, wand gripped tightly in his hand.

The scene he found was confusing. Aberforth was shouting at Gellert and Gellert was telling Aberforth to "fuck off." Then Gellert looked over to Albus and practically ran for him.

"Come upstairs with me," Gellert said huskily. "Come on, I need to talk to you –"

Albus sighed, his sluggish brain starting to work again. "Gellert –"

But Gellert grabbed Albus by the hand and led him upstairs, leaving a fuming Aberforth behind.

Gellert only let go of Albus' hand when they were both in the room. Gellert flicked his wand. Albus' door closed and Albus heard the lock click. Wordlessly, Albus stood there, staring at his friend, who was breathing hard.

"So," Gellert panted. "You're telling me you won't be joining me in the quest for the Hallows. Is that what you're telling me?"

Albus sighed again. "Oh Gellert, it's not that I don't want to, but I –"

"Fine," said Gellert. He looked flushed and there was a fire in his eyes. "Fine. Is this your final answer?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

He had barely finished speaking before Gellert quickly said, "Then there is something I need to know before I leave Godric's Hollow for good, Albus."

Albus nodded. He leaned up against the wall, waiting, looking uncertain.

Gellert looked at Albus for a long moment. Then he moved in closer to Albus, frowning slightly in concentration. Gellert's eyes went from looking at Albus' neck to looking up at his lips. He saw Albus swallow nervously. It was now or never. Albus was either going to push him away or he wasn't. But at this point, with Albus no longer planning on joining Gellert, Gellert had nothing to lose.

Gellert slowly closed the space between them. He put a hand on Albus' shoulder. He heard Albus stop breathing. Gellert leaned in and pressed his lips against Albus'.

Albus was quite certain that he was dreaming. Gellert's lips were soft and perfect. Everything that he hadn't felt when Andrea kissed him in sixth year, everything he was supposed to feel, suddenly sprang into him. The desire, the lightheadedness, the sense of electricity – it was all there, like other people had described. This is what a kiss is meant to feel like.

Albus took in a sharp breath and then kissed Gellert back. He wrapped his arms around Gellert, his right hand going to the back of Gellert's neck. He took a fistful of Gellert's golden hair and tried to gain some kind of semblance of control of himself, but was unsuccessful. He was delirious. When Gellert's tongue slid up against his own, Albus actually shivered. Then he broke the kiss.

When Gellert felt Albus shiver, he knew he had him – hook, line, and sinker.

But Albus was looking at him, flushed. "I – Gellert, I don't –" he stuttered. "I don't want to be a – a queer –"

Gellert laughed, looking as if he was quite enjoying himself. "Sorry, Albus, but you were kissing me back, rather vigorously, so there's no going back now." He licked his lips and then grinned mischievously. "Didn't you know it isn't queer if you say 'good game' after?"

"I –" said Albus, his face hot as fire. "What –" He couldn't speak. He may be a genius, powerful, talented, and so on, but in this arena, he was struck dumb.

But Gellert only pushed himself back against Albus and started kissing his neck. Albus gasped and little moans escaped from his mouth. Albus did not recognize this part of himself. At all. He had lost his head completely.

"You –" Albus said breathlessly as he tried to focus on what he wanted to say. Gellert was kissing his collarbone. "You – I thought – Ab told me you slept with some girl –"

"Yes, yes," Gellert said dismissively. He straightened himself and looked at Albus. "Well, I'm actually bisexual. I've known that for a long time. I am attracted to both genders."

Albus tried to digest this.

"But you should know," Gellert said vehemently, "that the girl last night meant nothing. Nothing, Albus. I was drunk, so drunk that I had forgotten about it, until recently. I don't even know her name. You, on the other hand," he breathed, "I have feelings for. Very strong feelings."

Gellert straightened out Albus' collar for a moment, gently rearranging his robes.

"I was just scared," Gellert invented, "of ruining our friendship. I was scared you wouldn't have feelings for me. I thought you did though. And I was right. You do."

Gellert smiled and complimented himself internally on how good of an actor he was.

"Truthfully?" whispered Albus.

"Truthfully," lied Gellert.

* * *

><p>"Gellert!" Ariana exclaimed happily. She was sitting at the small and dingy kitchen table with nail polish of all different colors spread out in front of her. "Come sit with me!"<p>

Gellert stopped. He was going to go straight to Albus' room, but he knew he probably was not home. Gellert had let himself in and Ariana was getting very used to him being around. At first, Gellert knew she had been nervous around him, but now Ariana liked him almost as much as she liked Aberforth…. Gellert grinned and immediately sat down perpendicular to her.

"Hello, Ariana. Are you painting your nails?"

"Yeah," Ariana said brightly. It was so odd at times like this. She was almost normal, but there was something very innocent about her – something you would expect from a seven-year-old.

"Where's Albus?" Gellert asked as he watched her rearranging all the nail polish.

"Not home yet," she chirped.

Gellert was not surprised. He had roughly twenty minutes to kill until Albus' return from work.

"Can I do your nails?" Ariana was saying, "Aberforth won't let me do his. He said no."

"Of course," said Gellert immediately. "What color should I get?"

As Ariana carefully scrutinized all of the colors, Aberforth entered the kitchen. He saw Gellert and scowled.

"Excuse me," Aberforth said to Gellert coldly, "but you don't live here."

Gellert ignored him.

"Let's do pink," said Ariana finally.

"Oh, I don't know, Ariana," Gellert said, but he was smiling. "Can't we choose like a more masculine color?"

Aberforth scoffed as he closed the pantry door. "Pink is a fitting color for you," he said with malice. "You have sex with men."

But Gellert only smiled more widely, quite enjoying himself. "Oh yes, that's right. Thanks, Aberforth, I forgot. Pink it is."

Ariana gave a little giggle and Gellert wasn't sure if she was laughing because she understood the dialogue or just because she was happy.

Aberforth wrinkled his nose in disgust as Ariana began to paint Gellert's fingernails with great care. Gellert noticed that the nail polish was drying unnaturally fast – almost the second Ariana lifted the brush away. Ariana's magic was slipping through without her notice.

"You're revolting," Aberforth announced.

Gellert's smile was gone, but not because he was angry.

"Listen, Ab," he said seriously, "I think you need to go outside and tell that special goat exactly how you feel." He had a very calm and elegant air about him for a man who was having his nails painted pink.

"I don't fuck goats," Aberforth snapped.

"I never said you _do_; I'm saying that you _want_ to."

"No, I don't!" Aberforth said, his hands balling into fists.

"Don't lie, Ab. I saw you eying up that one goat with the white mark on his face the other day. Now just go out there and do what you have to do."

There was a vein pulsing on Aberforth's temple. He was so easy to anger and Gellert liked doing it very much.

"You think you're so damn clever," Aberforth said loudly and spitefully, "but really you're just a good-for-nothing, disgusting queer. I mean _really_ disgusting. You and my brother, sitting up in his room all day and night doing whatever revolting things to each other – makes me _sick_!"

"At least Albus is a human," said Gellert. "But listen: I'll help you, Aberforth. Now, before you go outside and have sex with that goat -"

"God damn you!" Aberforth shouted.

Ariana suddenly brought her hands to her ears and shouted, "SSSSTTTTOOOPPPP!"

Both Gellert and Aberforth fell silent.

"It's all right, Ariana," Gellert said softly. "Aberforth is just a little sexually frustrated, that's all."

Face red, fists balled, Aberforth stormed from the room, just like Gellert knew he would. He always did; it was so easy.

By the time Albus got home ten minutes later, Gellert and Ariana were sitting on the couch reading a book.

"Gellert, why are your nails –?"

"Not now, Albus!" said Gellert with a look of utmost concentration, holding up a hand. "I'm in the middle of an important plot twist."

Albus grumbled something and went to his room to change out of his Muggle clothes. Gellert followed after a couple minutes.

"Aberforth wouldn't let Ariana paint his nails," Gellert muttered before giving Albus a light kiss.

"Not surprising, but pink?" Albus said with a smile. "Pink?"

"It's my favorite color," Gellert said with a straight face.

Albus couldn't even tell if Gellert was kidding or not. It was impossible to know for sure with him. So instead, Albus just put his arms around him and deepened the kiss.

"You're not actually going to walk around with pink fingernails, are you?" whispered Albus.

"No, of course not," said Gellert. He raised his wand and the nail polish disappeared.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been all night, Gellert?" Bathilda's said.<p>

Gellert looked over his shoulder at her. It was ten minutes past four o'clock in the morning. Bathilda was standing in the hallway in her bathrobe and pajamas. She was holding a cup of coffee and Gellert couldn't understand why anyone would ever wake up at four o'clock in the morning by choice.

"I've been discussing the International Warlock Convention of 1289 with Albus all night," said Gellert with a straight face.

"Oh, that's nice," said Bathilda vaguely as she turned to walk back down toward the kitchen.

Gellert grinned to himself as he made his way to his bed. Still, he thought to himself tiredly, more discussion about the Hallows and their future plans would have actually been better. It was becoming increasingly difficult to get Albus to focus on what mattered. Gellert was pretending to be infatuated in order to get Albus to stick with their plans, but now Albus was caring less and less about the Hallows, and more about spending time doing other things. Albus didn't really seem like he wanted to find the Hallows or overthrow the Statute of Secrecy. Instead, he just wanted to be with Gellert. This wasn't a good thing. Gellert knew he needed to find a way to get Albus focused on their plans.

Frowning slightly, Gellert collapsed into his bed and fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Here's the Stuff:<em>**

_I've literally collected everything JK Rowling has ever said about Albus/Gellert. She revealed the matter in 2008 and was rather vague about it, but she also talked about it again in 2010, after the Deathly Hallows book madness died down. Well, I definitely 100% believe that they were together, but not because Gellert actually had feelings back. _

1. 'In the seventh book — he has, what I think a child would read as an intense friendship, a friendship through which he is lead astray, but which for me was always an infatuation. But Dumbledore meets this handsome, his dark twin in a sense, and he's a very charismatic, brilliant young man. And whether or not that relationship was physically consummated or not I think is irrelevant, it's actually about love. And I think that the sensitive, maybe sophisticated adult reader could see that Dumbledore, who had been a very, you know, a very moral student, a model student up to that point, who goes so wildly off the rail suddenly, to think "yeah, genocide, that'll work!" You know — what did he feel for this person? Well, as for me, it's a step beyond friendship.** And I think that a person of Grindelwald's type would have exploited that being as it is**.' - JK Rowling, 2008

_I love JK Rowling talks as if they're real people and she doesn't really know the answers. She does that a lot about Albus/Gellert. "I _think_ he would have," it's brilliant. But anyway, that last sentence gets me. She thinks he would have exploited it. Okay, well, we don't know if Gellert ever knew, or how much he did "exploit it," but that really makes me think he knew and he in fact _did_ exploit Albus. Even if we take this as meaning Gellert had no idea (but I think he did), we at least know that _if_ he did know... he'd exploit it.  
><em>

2. 'I think [Grindelwald] was a user and a narcissist and **I think that he would use it, would use the infatuation**. I don't think he would reciprocate in that way, although he would be as dazzled by Dumbledore as Dumbledore was by him, because he would see in Dumbledore, 'My God, I never knew there was someone as brilliant as me, as talented as me, as powerful as me. Together, we are unstoppable!' **So I think he would take anything from Dumbledore to have him on his side.**' - JK Rowling 2010

_Woah, second time she said Gellert would use it, but he didn't really reciprocate. I know that a lot of people like the idea that Gellert had feelings back for Albus way deep down in his heart of hearts, but unfortunately, JK Rowling is saying no. And then she says that Gellert would have done anything to have Albus on his side. To me personally, that sounds like Gellert knew about Albus' feelings and he used it in order to make Albus do what Gellert wanted him to do, which was join him and stay with him. I think Gellert pretended to have feelings back, but he didn't, and I think Albus was young, foolish, vulnerable, gullible, isolated, unhappy, smitten, and feeling trapped. I don't think it would have been exactly hard for Gellert to use him._

3. "'Yes, even after they'd spent all day in discussion - both such brilliant young boys, they got on like a cauldron on fire - I'd sometimes hear an owl tapping at Gellert's bedroom window, delivering a letter from Albus! An idea would have struck him, and he had to let Gellert know immediately!'" - Bathilda Bagshot, Deathly Hallows, pg. 356 (US)

_This makes me giggle; it's probably one of the most incriminating evidence you can find in the novel that points to something greater than friendship. 'Cauldron on fire,' yeah, that's pretty suspicious, but 'spent all day in discussion' is kind of too. Discussion, yes, right.  
><em>

4. _There's also another quote I read, I thought it was on The Leaky Cauldron, but I have not been successful in finding it, so I'm thinking the article was deleted or something and it hasn't survived. JK Rowling was saying something like, "Did they sleep together? I really don't know." and the article said she 'peered into her teacup as if the answer was in there' or something along those lines. It's been years since I saw it; if anyone can find it, I'd be surprised.  
><em>

_End note: I looked up the history of nail polish and it has been around for a while, though it was not nearly as popular at this time than today... but it existed then!_


	6. Harry (Again)

_A/N: Hey everyone! After the crazy last chapter, I think it's time to ground things once again, so I've come back to Harry. The next chapter is going to be Gellert again, but it's going to be dark, not fun. This chapter isn't fun either. Seems like I'm establishing a pattern where chapters are either lighthearted or super angsty. I hope that I'm doing an okay job at portraying Dumbledore. I think teenage Albus and Harry Potter era Albus are two very different people, and I hope that's coming through. But I see Harry Potter era Albus as someone who still carries scars and self-hatred from a long time ago. He never got over summer 1899._

_You might also notice that this chapter is again called "Harry (Again)" Just like Red Furry Demon predicted, the chapter titles are going to be repeats. I'm doing this because I want it to be easy for people to jump to the topic they like. I know some of you are reading for Albus and Gellert interactions, and I know others are reading for Albus and Harry interactions. Others are reading for everything. So yeah, you can easily find what you want, I hope. There's Snape in this chapter, but it is Dumbledore's relationship with Harry that is the focus here, not Snape, so Harry (Again) is the title.  
><em>

_**mangoarcher1802** - Oh, I definitely think Gellert had respect for Albus. He knew how powerful Albus was. But I like to think he did not truly have respect for him until Albus turned against him. I think Gellert fled Godric's Hollow after Ariana's death because he was a bit afraid of Dumbledore at that point. It was the first time Albus was a potential threat to him. As for why Gellert lied to Voldemort - I think it was for multiple reasons. I think Gellert for one hated Voldemort and his movement; they might both be considered dark wizards, but Gellert is way different than Voldemort. I also think Gellert had come to regret the things he had done, both to the world at large and to Albus. But this took place in the 1990s after Gellert had been sitting in a cell since 1945. At the time Gellert was - er - friends with Albus, I don't think he cared about Albus at all, really. He had a lot of time to sit around and think about what he'd done. _

_**Red Furry Demon** - Nooooo, not Not Quite Utopia, noo. I am very glad you like my writing, but I doubt anyone could like NQU. The scene I was referring to was really brief and it was from Stay Alive, when Gellert meets Aberforth and tricks him into thinking he's robbing him. As for Hell Hath No Fury, LMAO, no, I had not read it, but it's hilarious. I love the way she tied canon into it, even though it's totally messed up. I think Aberforth and his goats are just a hilarious running joke that never gets old. Whether or not it's true, I don't know, but I hope it's not, and I think Albus would agree with me! _

* * *

><p><strong>"Dumbledore keeps a distance between himself and others through humor, a certain detachment and a frivolity of manner. ... Terrible to be Dumbledore, really, by the end he must have thought it would be quite nice to check out and just hope that everything works well." <strong>

**- JK Rowling, 2010**

**'And Dumbledore** **had known that Harry would not duck out, that he would keep going to the end, even though it was _his_ end, because he had taken trouble to get to know him, hadn't he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort knew, that Harry would not let anyone else die for him now that he had discovered it was in his power to stop it.'**

**- _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, pg. 693 (US)**

* * *

><p>Albus didn't really know what to expect from Harry Potter. Harry had eventually stumbled out of his office and retreated into the Gryffindor Common Room where he stayed, refusing to attend the end-of-the-year feast. Albus did not think this was a good sign.<p>

One of the many amazing things about Harry was his resilience. Albus had admired it time and time again. He was more resilient than Albus himself ever was. Harry had endured emotional abuse from the Dursleys, yet he had bounced back and turned out to be a polite, normal boy. Harry had learned the truth about his identity and went from being a nobody to a celebrity whose parents were murdered by an evil dark wizard, yet he bounced back and let neither his fame nor his parents' murders get to his head too much. Harry became fixated with the Mirror of Erised and Albus knew he had to take the mirror away. Harry had not brooded over the loss of the mirror; he bounced back. He faced Voldemort, bounced back. He faced Tom Riddle, bounced back. He suffered from hearing his parents being murdered when he came into contact with dementors, he bounced back. He failed to reveal his godfather's innocence, but he bounced back. Fighting dragons, merpeople, and the anti-Potter movement throughout the school during the Triwizard Tournament? Bounced right back. Fought being slandered by Rita Skeeter? Bounced back. (On a side note, Albus was one of the few who immediately knew that Harry was not going around crying over his parents like Skeeter claimed. This wasn't because Harry didn't love his parents, of course, it was only because it wasn't in his nature to go around crying over the past.)

But things changed after Voldemort came back. Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter was different. He wasn't able to bounce back like he had in the past. In place of Harry's hopeful innocence had emerged an angry, reckless teenager. He wasn't the same after Voldemort's return and now his godfather, the closest thing he had ever had to a parent, was dead too.

So who was Harry now?

Albus didn't know what Harry was going to be like when he saw him next. He worried that Harry was going to be deeply troubled. Albus didn't really know how to fix it. He knew the next time he sees Harry, Harry might be angry, depressed, suicidal even... or he might encounter a Harry who had bounced back and was as strong as ever. Albus simply didn't know. He was a bit scared, to be honest. Albus had never been good at comforting anyone. He had never been very skilled at being in the emotional arena. Albus was a thinker; he belonged in the world of academics and books and newspapers. Harry was emotional and he felt each and every emotion deeply. Sure, Albus completely loved Harry to death, but he wasn't exactly good at saying that. A large part of him wanted to run to Privet Drive, beat down the Dursleys' door, and tell Harry that it wasn't his fault, that he was loved... but Albus unfortunately did no such thing. He kept his distance from everyone and he was as detached as possible. Albus knew everything personal about everybody, but nobody knew anything personal about him.

Harry was stronger than he because Harry did not - could not - shy away from emotion. That's why Harry could not master Occlumency. Albus had mastered Occlumency because he could avoid feeling. Harry couldn't. Normally, Harry dealt with matters astonishingly well... but there's only so much one person can take before he cracks. Harry's emotional nature might be his self-destruction. So yes, Albus was pretty worried about Harry right now. How much could Harry take without jumping off the deep end if he wasn't already there? What was Albus going to do if he found Harry in a complete mess? Damned if Albus knew. That night that Sirius died... Albus had told Harry "I know how you are feeling." Harry became infuriated. That wasn't really Albus' intention. He had meant to comfort Harry, but instead, Harry demolished his office. Granted, it had at least gotten Harry talking, which Albus was trying to achieve, but it did not unfold the way he had planned. Albus was not cut out to help someone, even when he desperately wanted to.

It wasn't the first time Harry had worried him. Albus actually worried about Harry a lot, but this time was different somehow. He was scared that he had hurt Harry too deeply this time.

Albus had been called to the Ministry of Magic shortly after it was announced Rufus Scrimgeour would replace Fudge as Minister. He did not exactly like the Ministry, but he was not rude enough to refuse discussion with the new Minister. He walked out of the elevator door and rounded a few corners before he found himself in front of Scrimgeour, who was sitting at the desk that had just been Fudge's a short while ago.

Scrimgeour jumped to his feet and extended his hand. "Professor Dumbledore, thank you for coming -"

"You are no longer a student, Rufus, please call me Albus," he said as he shook Scrimgeour's hand. Albus had this conversation with everyone.

"Of course," said Scrimgeour with a smile. "Please sit down."

Albus did so and Scrimgeour sat across from him. Albus waited for him to speak.

"We're very disadvantaged," Scrimgeour finally said. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has gotten a head start of an entire year, something that you worked tirelessly to stop from happening. I do not blame you if you have little faith in the Ministry. We haven't exactly been intelligent this past year."

"It is all water under the bridge," said Albus. He was not encouraged that Scrimgeour had not called Voldemort by his name. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' was only a fancier way to cover up the fact the speaker was afraid to say 'Voldemort.' Nevertheless, Albus continued, "It doesn't matter what happened these past months. Certainly, the best time to begin to battle Voldemort was a year ago, but the next best time is now. The Ministry is full of capable witches and wizards. If you can unite everyone to work together, then I do not doubt the Ministry has a fighting chance."

"Yes," agreed Scrimgeour with a sigh. "I hope you are right. This actually brings me to my point in wanting to meet with you. Your Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter... I think we need to all work together, to all stand alongside each other."

"The Order is its own separate entity," Albus said calmly. "It does not become involved in the Ministry because the Ministry is prone to infiltration and corruption. However, we have always respected the Auror department. Whenever we can, we hand matters over to the Auror department after our work is done, but we do not plan together. I hope you can understand why this is. Unfortunately, I am afraid there either already is or soon will be spies in the Ministry, and if we involve the Ministry in our secret plans, we may very likely be handing information over to Voldemort inadvertently. The Order largely keeps to itself to protect itself. Also, Harry Potter is neither a part of the Order nor a part of the Ministry, and I intend for this to stay this way. The only person I intend Harry Potter to work with is me."

Scrimgeour gave him a very hard look. "I heard Potter wants to become an Auror."

"And I am sure he will be an excellent one someday once Voldemort is gone, but for now, he is not. He is still underage and he is still a student."

"Albus, I would like to meet with Potter."

"No," said Albus sharply. He gave no further explanation. Just that infuriating "no" that he gave people sometimes.

"He is a big boy, Albus," Scrimgeour said. "He should be able to decide what he wants to do and who he wants to work with."

"You aren't working with Harry," Albus said, feeling himself getting slightly impatient. "You only want to use him just as Fudge had planned. You only want him to be popping in and out of the Ministry to make it seem like the Ministry has the famous Harry Potter working with it. I will not let you use Harry in that way. He has dealt with enough. He doesn't need you using his name and fame for your selfish benefit."

"Selfish!" Scrimgeour said. "I am not being selfish - this is for the good of all wizards everywhere! Now, Potter wants to become an Auror and we could very easily arrange that in exchange for his assistance. I want to speak with him."

"Rufus, it is not happening," Albus said, his voice calm but strong. He was not exactly enthused that his first meeting with Scrimgeour was becoming an argument. "Accept this straightaway so we can move on."

Scrimgeour switched tactics. "Why was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the Ministry in June?"

"Why does Voldemort do anything?" said Albus offhandedly. "He was here because he thought he could gain something by doing so."

"And what was that? What did Potter have to do with any of it?"

"I'm afraid that is confidential, Rufus. The Order does not want the Ministry to know that, and since you are a part of the Ministry, I cannot tell you."

Scrimgeour fixed Albus with a glare. "All right then, was there a prophecy about Potter in the Hall of Prophecy?"

"I'm afraid that is also confidential," said Albus lightly. "Though the Hall of Prophecy, along with the entire Department of Mysteries, is, in fact, a part of the Ministry. Did you try asking the Unspeakables?"

Scrimgeour's expression was stony. "I did try asking the Unspeakables. They denied the very existence of the Hall of Prophecy. I told them I know it exists and then they got into an argument with me, telling me that no one can ever truly know if anything exists or not."

Albus laughed. He had already known the Unspeakables would say something like this because that is the kind of peculiar people they are, but it still amused him greatly to hear Scrimgeour's answer. Scrimgeour did not laugh with him.

"Well, that sounds like something the Unspeakables would say. Better luck next time, perhaps."

"Is Potter the Chosen One?" asked Scrimgeour sharply, clearly not amused.

"Is that what he's being called these days?" asked Albus, his voice still light. "I suppose the Boy Who Lived does get old after a while."

"You know what I mean, Albus. Is he the only one that has any chance of killing He-Who-Must-Not-"

"My dear man, I have no idea," Albus lied. "I do not work in the Hall of Prophecy."

Scrimgeour was getting very impatient now. "I want to speak to Potter," he said slowly, weighing his words, as if doing so would scare Albus.

"No," Albus said again.

"Don't you think Potter is old enough to make his own decisions in regards to who he wants to speak with?" Scrimgeour said, sounding quite angry now.

"Harry is a very vulnerable being," said Albus calmly. "I need to keep him away from people who would only do him harm, including you. You are not going to bribe him, lie to him, and use him. It is not happening."

"Oh I see," said Scrimgeour, his face being flushed in anger. "So you think you are _protecting_ him, is that it?"

"Certainly," replied Albus calmly.

"Well," Scrimgeour said nastily, "it seems you haven't always done a very good job doing that, have you? Why start now?"

Everything screeched to a halt in Albus' brain. He was no longer amused. This had all been so much fun up until now. The room seemed to have dropped several degrees. Albus did not have many weaknesses and he was generally unfazed by criticism, but not this time.

"Rufus, you are not going within fifty meters of Harry Potter. I am not going to tell you again. We are moving on. If there is anything else you wish to discuss with me, now would be the time. Otherwise, I will be leaving."

"I'm the Minister of Magic!" exclaimed Scrimgeour. "Who are you to say I can't meet with Potter? Don't you know that I can look up his address and show up on his doorstep? I thought I was just being polite by asking you to introduce us, but since you are being so irrationally stubborn, I will sidestep you and go straight to the source. Where does he live? Little Whinging, isn't it? I will look it up and I _will_ speak to him."

Albus considered Scrimgeour thoughtfully. Amazingly, Albus did not appear as angry as he had just seconds ago.

After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Albus said, "Well, I am sorry, Rufus, but you actually will not. I suppose no one has told you about the conditions in which Harry Potter is living? I did not merely drop him off at his aunt and uncle's home and wish him good luck. His home has been given the most powerful protective enchantments known to wizardkind. You cannot simply stop at his house and ring the doorbell. Good gracious, he would be long dead by now if any witch or wizard could. Didn't you know a Death Eater went after him when he was a toddler? He survived because the enchantments worked beautifully. The Death Eater couldn't even step onto the front lawn. I think you will find you will be unable to as well."

Scrimgeour was turning redder by the second. "I am no Death Eater! What, have you made it impossible for even the Minister of Magic to pay him a visit?"

Albus continued to look thoughtful. "Well, no, I had not, but you can bet my enchantments are now going to guard him against the Minister as well. It is not exactly difficult for me to tweak."

There was a nasty silence as Scrimgeour looked like he was trying to unclench his jaw. When he finally opened his mouth, he said, "You've been reinstated as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

"I thank you for that, but I am afraid I will, regrettably, not have time to serve on it."

"Why?" demanded Scrimgeour.

Albus gave a little smile. "I am working on the Voldemort problem and, coincidentally, there is somewhere else I need to be tonight."

"Where is that?" asked Scrimgeour, looking curious despite his anger.

Albus stood up and Scrimgeour reluctantly did the same.

"No where you would know, Rufus," said Albus heavily. "Should you require my assistance about anything other than Harry Potter, you can always contact me. Good night, Minister."

That was the night the date of Albus' imminent death was revealed: about a year left. No more.

* * *

><p>Albus sat with a blank piece of parchment in front of him. He had been slightly avoiding this.<p>

He raised a quill and wrote, '_Dear Harry,_'.

The colossal blank space following these words was filled with so many possible words and sentences that it was almost laughable. There was so much that he could say - should say. Albus still didn't know how Harry was going to respond. He didn't know Harry's current mental state. Albus could say_ I am sorry._ That would be a good start. _I'm sorry I couldn't save your parents. I'm sorry it's my fault Sirius is dead. I'm sorry I kept the truth from you for so long. I'm sorry I'm still continuing to keep the whole truth away from you. I'm sorry I'm going to ask you to walk to your possible death one day. I'm sorry I left you with the Dursleys. I made so many mistakes in regards to you. _All these were good possible words. Or how did teenagers these days say 'I made a mistake'? Albus briefly remembered overhearing a student apologizing to a female companion shortly before summer, probably a girlfriend by the looks of it... he had said, 'I'm sorry, I fucked up, all right?' Yes, that would be a good letter to send to Harry. _Dear Harry, I'm sorry, I f-ed up. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore._ That would look good on parchment. At least, it would be honest.

Albus snorted and ran his un-cursed hand over his forehead. What else could he say? Oh yes, he could say_ I'm sorry, but I'm actually dying now, not that I'm going to bother telling you though, because I'm too much of a coward_. How awful of a conversation would that be, to tell Harry that Albus only had about a year to live? That would be an emotional conversation and Albus avoided emotion because he had to keep everyone at arm's length.

No, he couldn't say that either. Becoming serious now, Albus instead wrote:

'_If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays. _

_If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you._

_Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday. _

_I am, yours most sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_'

That was more like him, completely formal, devoid of real emotion, no sense of apology. He knew, however, that he would have to say something about Sirius when he saw Harry in person - he owed Harry that. Albus sent the letter and waited.

He knew that it was possible his letter was not going to be received well by Harry. Harry could ignore it, or set it on fire, or write something nasty in return, or he could write back an agreement. Albus had a feeling Harry was going to write back an agreement, but nothing would surprise him at this point. As he waited for Harry's reply, he ran through every possible scenario in his head, which was always a very stupid thing to do. Albus already knew that, even if Harry ignored his letter or sent back a refusal, he was going to go fetch Harry anyway. What if Harry had sunk into a deep depression and he was sleeping all day, refusing to eat? What if Harry had decided that he absolutely hated Albus Dumbledore and he was never going to talk to him again?

But the next morning, an owl arrived, bearing Harry's signature. It simply read, '_Yes, please. Harry_.' Then Albus was left to ponder why Harry had sent such a short reply. It could be because he is angry. It could be because he is embarrassed by what happened in his headmaster's office at the end of the year. It could be because he simply did not know what else to say. Albus knew Harry was not very good with words.

Albus let out a sigh. All he could do was wait and see. Well, whatever Harry's condition, Albus knew he was going to let the Dursleys know he wasn't exactly happy with them. He might even have fun doing it.

* * *

><p><em>"He accused me of being 'Dumbledore's man through and through.' ... I told him I was."<em>

How did Harry manage to do this to him? No one else could do this to him. The world was full of people who were loyal to him, but none of them impacted Albus like that. Hearing that come from Harry was different than it coming from anyone else.

It was awful.

Albus had sworn to himself that he was not going to get attached to Harry - he had sworn he would always stick to keeping Harry as little more than a pawn, because he knew how Harry's story might end. Albus was to remain out of Harry's life as much as possible; the only time Albus would talk to Harry was when he absolutely had to. He was going to remain as emotionally distant as he could. He thought he had done a fairly good job at it. He hadn't even talked to Harry until Christmas his first year and he had kept it brief. He had congratulated himself; the boy had no idea that, to this day, he was walking around with enchantments placed on him by Albus Dumbledore. Then Harry had asked Albus about himself. Albus had balked, but he managed to do what he usually did when someone asked him about himself: he cracked a joke and then made Harry go back to bed without a real answer. Albus had thought he had done so well. There would be no him getting close to Harry or Harry getting close to him.

But it had already begun. Harry had asked him in June why Voldemort wanted him dead in the first place. Albus refused to tell him. He told himself he refused to tell Harry because he was only eleven, but that was a lie... he didn't tell Harry because he wanted Harry to remain happy and carefree.

Then, at the beginning of this school year, Albus had told himself that he was going to a) not become more attached and b) become increasingly detached. Albus was a dead man walking and he knew he had to see his plan through: he had to set the plan in motion for Harry to go walk to what he thinks will be his death. But of course, here was proof that Albus had failed. Just a few words from Harry and Albus is on the verge of tears, his heart filling with emotion. He had to see his plan through. How could he see his plan through?

* * *

><p>"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"<p>

Severus Snape was looking at Albus with a shocked expression on his face. Despite Albus' despair, he felt a rush of bizarre satisfaction and savage pleasure. Finally, someone was seeing Albus Dumbledore for what he truly was. Severus was looking at him like he was a drowning man waiting for Albus to throw him a life jacket. Albus didn't comply. He just looked back at Severus with malice. Finally, someone else could know that Albus was a cruel, twisted, manipulative person who did evil things in the name of good. He was sending Harry Potter, a boy he claimed to love, to his death. Albus didn't bother telling Severus he thought he would survive. He didn't bother because he felt that Severus should finally see what Albus really was. What Albus was doing to Harry was only one of the many crimes he had committed over his lifetime. It was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Don't be shocked, Severus," Albus said, his voice unbearably bitter. "How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save," said Severus.

_Oh, Severus. You are so much of a better person than I_.

"You have used me," stated Severus.

_I know I have. I use everyone. You were so easy to use, Severus.  
><em>

"Meaning?" said Albus coldly.

"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter -"

"But this is touching, Severus," said Albus, momentarily taken aback by Severus' admission. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

This made Severus very angry. "For _him_?" he shouted. He raised his wand. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

The doe pranced around Albus' office. He watched it fly out the window.

"After all this time?"

"Always."

Albus hated himself and now someone else could hate him too. Everything Severus had done for the past sixteen years was for _love_. Everything Albus had done for the past sixteen years was for _the greater good_, and it didn't matter to him how many people got hurt in the process. Do the ends justify the means or is Albus just as evil as Gellert Grindelwald? Grindelwald's official charges, the reason he is still sitting in a cell, is for 'crimes against humanity.' Look at all the crimes Albus had done to others. Harry. Severus. Sirius. The entire Order. _Harry_.

After Severus left looking stricken, Albus placed the Resurrection Stone in the golden snitch. He wrote _I open at the close_ on it. It was demented; it was cruel. He was sending Harry to his death and his only gift could be the Stone. It didn't matter if Albus thought Harry would survive. He wasn't going to tell Harry he would probably survive because the benefits that could come with not knowing might be enormous. As far as Harry would know, he would be walking to his death with his loved ones (Albus wouldn't be one of them) beside him. Harry would do it. He would do anything to stop Voldemort. And Albus had used that. Albus had even managed to ensure he would check out before Harry would be asked to die. Albus wasn't even going to be around to see the look on Harry's face when he's told he will have to let Voldemort kill him. How perfect. Albus would die a hero in Harry's eyes and he would be spared from having to give Harry the big news himself.

_That's great, Albus, _he told himself spitefully. _Really spectacular. Your plan, so far, has unfolded perfectly, just like you knew it would._

This is what Albus Dumbledore was, he was certain. Manipulator. His only equal was Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most evil persons to ever walk the face of the earth. Scheming. Cold. The ultimate Machiavellian figure disguised as a good person. It was about bloody time someone else knew the truth.


	7. The Greater Good

_A/N: Happy New Year! Well, everyone is still being pretty quiet, but I'm watching as people have been favoriting, following, and reading/reviewing a ton of my old stuff too, so that's all good and I like that._

_I know I haven't updated in a long time. That's because my internship has started. I literally am busy every hour I'm conscious. I'm sacrificing sleep to update this now. It's probably got a ton of typos, but I'm too tired to care.  
><em>

_So this chapter is dark. Albus kind of makes a pact with the devil here. He agrees to Gellert's plans. A part of me wants to say Dumbledore would never have said the things he said here, but he did agree with Gellert's plans. Granted, he was brainwashed, vulnerable, manipulated, etc., but fact is, he still was planning to overthrow the Statute of Secrecy and rule over Muggles. So yeah, this is him at his darkest.  
><em>

_**Red Furry Demon** - Hahahah, how do you find such good fanfics? It's amazing. Grindelwald is in denial though. They WERE together, even Bathilda said they "got on like a cauldron on fire." Haha!_

_**Lucinda** - Oh yeah, I have read it! I've read all the Gellert/Albus fanfics on here, I have to admit. It's way better than mine; one of the best I've read. _

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><p><strong>"Every saint has got a past, but every sinner's got a future."<br>**

**- Switchfoot**

**"I know what you think in the morning when the sun shines on the ground and shows what you have done. It shows where your mind has gone. And you swear to your parents that it will never happen again. I know, I know what that means. I know."**

**- Twenty One Pilots**

**"Did I know, in my heart of hearts, what Gellert Grindelwald was? I think I did, but I closed my eyes. If the plans we were making came to fruition, all my dreams would come true."**

**- Albus Dumbledore, _Deathly Hallows_, pg. 716 (US) **

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><p>"Can't you see that they are inferior?"<p>

Albus' brow was furrowed as he considered Gellert's words carefully. Gellert was pacing in his room as Albus sat numbly upon his bed. He thought about his coworkers and his boss, who had taken the time to humiliate him in front of his coworkers that past Friday. He thought about the fact he was working with Muggles who would never go far in life. Moving boxes and doing simple paperwork was the only thing they would ever do with their lives. They weren't like him. They weren't like Gellert. They were simple-minded.

"Yes," Albus said finally. "Yes, I know. They are."

"Of course they are!" cried Gellert, throwing his hands up in the air. "Albus, you work with them for God's sake, you should know that the Muggles are inferior better than anyone."

"I know," Albus said carefully, "but Gellert, that doesn't mean that they should be oppressed."

This made Gellert very angry. "You're hopeless!" he snarled. "How many times have I told you that it is not about oppressors and the oppressed? It's about social order and the betterment of society!"

Albus closed his eyes and did not respond.

Gellert stopped pacing and huffed. He sat down beside Albus on the bed and Albus opened his eyes when he felt Gellert sit beside him. Gellert leaned in and kissed him softly, and Albus' eyes fluttered closed again.

The kiss was broken and Gellert whispered softly, "I don't want to hurt the Muggles. We will help them. There is so much good we can do for them. We will save them from the diseases they have no hope of curing themselves. Albus, they're dying in the streets over sicknesses that we could cure in an instant. Our only price will be the power for us to make all final decisions. They can have freedom, but just like a parent having the ultimate word over their children, wizards will have the final say over the Muggles. They will be saved in exchange for a small price."

Albus nodded blindly. He had already heard Gellert's speech a thousand times. "I know," he whispered back. "You're right. For the greater good."

* * *

><p>Now that it was revealed that Albus was a smitten fool, Gellert honestly couldn't understand why he didn't figure it out earlier. Once or twice the possibility had crossed his mind, but he never actually believed it. Gellert had never really wanted that kind of relationship with him, but it had its advantages, and Albus wasn't particularly bad looking or anything, so Gellert could live with it. The cost was small and the benefits were enormous.<p>

Albus shifted slightly in his sleep, but he either did not wake or he was doing a good job at pretending he was still asleep. He was still is Gellert's arms because Gellert's repeated attempts to make Albus give him space always failed eventually. God, he was pathetic.

Of course, Gellert had been very taken by Albus from the start, just not in that way. Gellert had read the things Albus Dumbledore had written, he knew Albus had to be very intelligent, he knew that Albus was his own age, and Gellert was interested in meeting him when it was revealed that he was living next door to his great-aunt. Albus was not the reason Gellert had come to Godric's Hollow, but he was an unexpected and pleasant surprise. At no point did Gellert think Albus was as powerful as him though, or even very powerful at all. Brains and power do not automatically go together. Some of the most brilliant were limited in their magical powers.

The truth came out when Gellert asked Albus about his future career plans. Albus had sighed and then said, "I am not sure. I cannot leave Ariana alone for a long time. Everyone had always told me that I should run for Minister of Magic. Well, actually, they assumed I would. They've been asking me when I was planning to run since I was eleven."

"Why do they think you'd want to be Minister of Magic?"

Albus had shrugged. "I suppose they think power will equate with career success. It is an assumption that I do not like. I don't want to be Minister of Magic."

"You're powerful?" asked Gellert doubtfully.

Albus shrugged again. "Yes, at least, they have been telling me I am since my first year. I did very well in school, from my first day to my last."

Gellert had then stood and demanded Albus duel him. The first time, Gellert beat Albus. Albus had looked completely stunned. Gellert then declared (in a rather bored voice) that they would do two more rounds. They began again. This time, Albus beat Gellert. It was Gellert's turn to gawk in disbelief. The last round was the one that lasted the longest. Both had just proved to the other than they were more powerful than originally assumed. Albus won that last round though, leaving Gellert staring as conflicting emotions rose up within him.

"You don't have to be angry," Albus said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm not angry," Gellert denied, though, in truth, he was a bit irritated. "I've just never been beaten before, that's all. I didn't know you were both a genius _and_ powerful."

But his anger had been immature. It took Gellert a while to understand that he had no need to be jealous of Albus' power, not when he could control Albus any way he fancied.

Gellert looked at the clock on the wall of Albus' room. It was five minutes past nine.

"Albus," Gellert muttered, "it's 9:05."

This had an immediate effect on Albus. He gasped and sat up, looking like he was ready to run out the door. "What day is it?" he demanded.

"Calm down," Gellert exclaimed. "My God, it's a Sunday, you don't work!"

Albus fell back down, still breathing heavily.

"But you still have to get up," said Gellert. "We both do."

"I'm sure Aberforth has fed Ariana -"

"No, not that. We have to make some progress on the Deathly Hallows."

Albus groaned. Instead of getting up, he started kissing Gellert's jawline, which was a reaction that Gellert did not like.

"You are impossible," snapped Gellert as he pushed Albus off him. "I don't get it. We aren't going to save the world by you lying on top of me all day."

Gellert had never been in a "relationship" before. The whole idea was pointless to him. He had had sex with people before, but it had always been a spur of a moment thing, never anything affectionate or "meaningful." Even the word "relationship" made him want to roll his eyes. Yet Albus was before him, and Albus was a brilliant, irreplaceable tool... It was unfortunate that Albus had not wanted to stick with Gellert and his plans as a _friend_, but it was what it was. Albus had feelings for him and Gellert could easily exploit him. Gellert was willing to do anything to keep Albus on his side, even if it meant pretending to have feelings for him when he really did not.

It was pitiful though, the desperation Gellert could feel Albus emitting. He would kiss him desperately; he would tremble and his breathing would be uneven. Gellert wasn't exactly unhappy with it all - he did rather enjoy the nights he spent with Albus, but it also worried Gellert. He didn't want to admit he was afraid of developing real feelings for Albus. Gellert told himself over and over again that it was just lust, but he couldn't deny that Albus made him smile sometimes.

Unfortunately, however, there was an unexpected development. Gellert was pretending he was just as smitten as Albus in order to keep him and use him in his search for the Deathly Hallows. It wasn't ideal, but having a relationship with Albus was a small price to pay in exchange for Albus' brains and power. Yet now, Albus had become so obsessed with the romantic side of the bargain that he was becoming increasingly disinterested in their grand quest. Albus didn't want to spend countless hours looking over volumes of texts and plotting their defeat of the Statute of Secrecy. No, he wanted to kiss Gellert all day, every day.

The day after Gellert realized this, he put his intervention in motion.

Gellert visited Albus that afternoon. Gellert ignored Aberforth's look of disgust and went straight up to Albus' room to find him reading, but he wasn't reading anything that would give them a clue as to where the Deathly Hallows were. He was reading _Transfiguration Today_ for _fun_.

Albus jumped up off his bed with a grin. He walked over to Gellert without registering Gellert's look of displeasure.

"I was wondering where you were," Albus murmured before putting his arms around Gellert and kissing him softly.

Gellert turned his head away, breaking the kiss.

Albus opened his eyes. "What is it?" he breathed.

Gellert did not answer. He sighed heavily before saying, "We need to talk."

Albus stared at him with fear on his face. It was so easy, _so_ easy for Gellert to scare him.

"Why?" Albus murmured, his voice still very soft. "What's wrong, Gellert?"

Gellert still did not answer or look back at Albus.

"... Gellert?" There was definitely fear in Albus' voice now.

Gellert finally looked at Albus.

"You're not...?" Albus choked out.

"Albus, look," said Gellert as he closed Albus' bedroom door. "I love you. You know I love you."

Albus smiled with tears filling his eyes. "I -"

"No, listen. I had never planned on falling in love with you. I had never planned having someone else on my side, searching for the Deathly Hallows, searching to change the world. I know you're feeling the same things I'm feeling. But it seems, as of late, you have forgotten a part of what makes us _us_. I want to be with you, but I still want you to be my partner, my ally. Albus, we haven't found any leads on the Deathly Hallows in over a week. I am not content with an average life, even if it is with someone I love. I want to do extraordinary things with my life."

"Oh, Gellert, I know -"

"I'm not saying I don't want to be with you," Gellert interrupted. "I'm only saying I need more from us."

Albus nodded blindly. "I know. I understand. You're right. Though I still think the Elder Wand is with Gregorovitch."

"I disagree, Al, you know I do," said Gellert wearily.

"I - I know, I'm sorry, Gellert, you're right, of course you're right," Albus said hurriedly, sounding quite upset. "I'm sorry, I've forgotten - I've been too obsessed with _you_ that I forgot our plan..."

* * *

><p>"There will be people who disagree with us, Albus."<p>

"I know."

"There will be people who are willing to fight against us. It's inevitable."

"Yes."

"Then you must realize that there might be some bloodshed. No revolution is achieved without some sacrifice. But you and I will be unstoppable. There will be those who will fight us to the death, but I think once they see how powerful we are and how perfect our objective is, there will be little conflict. But you need to admit there will be those who will not accept our revolution quietly. These people need to be silenced."

"I know, Gellert."

"You're prepared to use force as necessary?"

"I am."

"I'm prepared to kill anyone who stands and fights us. I don't like it, but their lives would be a small price to pay compared to all the Muggle lives we'll save. Can you say you'd raise your wand and kill?"

Albus hesitated.

"Remember," Gellert said forcefully, "what those Muggles did to Ariana. When we reshape the world, situations like that will never happen again. The Muggles will know that witches and wizards are above them, and they will love us for it. But you have to say it."

Albus nodded. "I know. I don't want to kill, but if I -"

"When," interrupted Gellert impatiently.

"- when I have to kill, I will."

* * *

><p>"This isn't you."<p>

Albus blinked at Aberforth. His younger brother was looking alarmed.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" asked Albus coldly.

"I mean this utter bullshit coming from your mouth isn't you," Aberforth said, his eyes wide.

"Oh really?" Albus said, his expression stony. "What are you now, a Muggle-lover? Did you forget that they raped and tortured Ariana at the age of six?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," Aberforth said in a tone that was almost as cold as Albus'. "And I'm not a Muggle-lover. I'm saying that these ideas - this idea that you and Grindelwald are going to rule over them and take away their freedoms is not like you. The words coming out of your mouth are Grindelwald's."

"Freedom is appraised too highly," Albus said with a glare. "Freedom. They're just Muggles. I'm not saying they deserve pain; I'm just saying that they are inferior. We were meant to rule. They need someone telling them what to do, because they can't help themselves. They are like children. They cannot handle total freedom. You can't blame them; it isn't their fault, but it is what it is. In our society, the Muggles would never have done that to Ariana because they'll know we're superior and they cannot hurt us. Gellert and I are going to change the world for the better. You'll see."

Aberforth just looked back at him in shock.

* * *

><p>Albus, Gellert, and Aberforth all froze as soon as they saw Ariana's body fall to the ground. Aberforth was the first to come to his senses and he started shaking her still frame. She wasn't moving. She wasn't responding. Albus was quite certain that his younger brother was shouting, but Albus couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears.<p>

Albus fell to the floor and crawled over to his motionless sister on his hands and knees. He was only dimly aware that Gellert was running away. Albus' hands were shaking so badly that he could barely hold his wand and say "Ennervate." It was no use.

And Gellert was gone.

Gellert was running away because, at this moment, he was afraid of Albus Dumbledore for the first time.

* * *

><p>Albus was sitting crisscrossed in front of his mother's and sister's headstone. He was shaky because the last time he had eaten was before he was discharged from St. Mungo's nearly two full days ago, but he did not care. It was getting close to four in the morning and he had not slept. Instead, he sat before their graves pleading internally for forgiveness. He still did not know where Aberforth was. Gellert was probably halfway around the world hunting for the Elder Wand by now, and Albus begged that Gellert never find it.<p>

_I'm sorry. What have I become? I'm sorry._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Uh, well, that was depressing. The next chapter may be funny; I haven't decided yet. There's one thing I want to write about, but it's kinda crackficy-ish again. I don't know if I should do it. I know a lot of shy people are following this story/have favorited it. So what do you guys think?  
><em>


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